We wear our chaos on the inside where no one can see it
The mind is often tongue-tied and we cannot free it
In a world where everyone is overexposed we maintain mystery
When it comes to being selectively social we have a history
Exuberance of extroverts is never quizzed we must clarify why we are quiet
Remember with the people we are comfortable with we can be a riot
We keep failing at small talk give us deep conversations instead
If overthinking situations burned calories we would all be dead
We thoroughly enjoy minding our own business
A quiet nook in an empty bookstore is enough ‘busyness’
Rainy days and cancelled plans are welcome anytime
Handpicked people make us happy yet solitude is sublime
The world of introverts is complicated the rest can’t comprehend
For the things that ignite our passion backwards we can bend
Like snails receding into their shells at the slightest touch
We stay hidden from public view and cannot be seen much