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.