I’d like for you to meet my Introverted Self.

Looks like you don’t know whether to laugh or run.

He’s a shy guy with a pony tail and a stutter.

Best of all are twinkly eyes that size you up.

Don’t worry, he won’t bore you with small talk,

but with a little provocation he quotes stanzas

of poetry.  No, no, wait!  Here he comes, just

around the corner. He’ll feel awkward at first,

but I’m sure your graciousness will out-snooker

any hesitancy he has. Why is he male? Why are

any of us what we are?  Dumb luck, I guess.