The Life Of An Introvert Poem by Mitta Xinindlu

You are born into a motherless world;
growing up in pain of having no defending word.
Being the only one without a mother;  
among your peers you're the other.

You start school and excel
but others accept your intellect as a repelling smell.
Somehow you gain enemies who hate your direction;  
your social demands separate you from others' actions.

They treat you like you're a character of a fiction.
They don't understand your situation.
They don't understand why you prefer a book over a courtesy conversation.
So, they call you names, "weird, egoistic, strange, crazy".

Then you start high school, excelling without being lazy.
The cycle repeats itself with the cliques;
your intelligence and self exclusion are points of critiques.
You only have two friends and teachers who like you 
and enemies who have formed a queue.

They think you think you're better than their pool
but it's their projections that make you reflect a fool.
Ironically, you don't even know your own value.
You're just amazed in confusion and the blues.

You do everything by the book;
follow the law, expectations and all the rules.
You don't start trouble 
but you're constantly placed in trials of mumbles,
in which you and your lawyer are absent.
So, you lose the trial of society in an instant.
Once again you're left with two friends 
and a sea full of fiends.

You go to varsity to earn a degree.
You play by the rules and respecting all pedigrees.
But the names start again,
"weird, strange, you're dressed in bargains".
By the time you graduate,  
you have two friends and a sea of enemies who can punctuate.

You go to the office.
Again your uniqueness attracts gossip.
Even though you clock in super early and leave super late,
you do your job but still gain a share of hate.
The name-calling comes towards you without stutter.
They say, "you're weird, unsocial and think you're smarter".

So, you get married to find peace.
You live your life without a lease.
Set your boundaries to make your corner comfortable 
but your uniqueness makes you even more vulnerable.
The name-calling repeats boundary-less;
they say, "you're weird, crazy, boring, lifeless and tasteless".

Why does life have to be according to the standards of extroverts?
Why do you get punished for being an introvert?
Why is enjoying own's company associated with mental illness?
Are you ought to be desperate for others' company to find stillness?
Are you to be dependent on external stimuli to be content?
Introverts deserve to be free and to be themselves without torment.

Extroverts must stop bullying and humiliating introverts,  
hating them for finding happiness within themselves.