A Day in the Life of the Human Race (Poetry Volume I)

Introverts

I can hear every whisper from your sealed lips, thinking that there is no possible way anyone could hear what was mumbled under your breath.

Something forbid you actually voice your opinion through words.

they must stay as a silent whisper, maybe not even.

And the introverts notice the musicians and the dreamers.

We see them cry and break down and smash their goals against the wall.

only to go pick up the shattered pieces and super glue them back together one by one.

Because they are not realists.

And they refuse to give up on what makes them happy.

And we notice the realists.

The ones who look upon the dreamers as they spend countless hours building up their goals, only to have them smashed again, at the fault of their own.

They look at them with pity,

as they go back to living their repitive human middle aged lives.

With planned vacations and dull evenings spent inside.

They cannot tell Monday from Friday, and they have taught themselves to be okay with that.

But then again, if every day is memorabe no day is memorable.

And then we look upon the other introverts.

And we see them huddled in the corner with their oversized jackets and spiral notebooks. In there they jot down all that they See and Hear.

feeling it inside their Broken Souls.

And they disobey The Force. The Force that they have grown to understand is not real.

They have freed themselves from their Cage.

And now they are doomed upon a life in which they must watch others slam their heads against The Wall.

Spending their days wishing to just reach out and help, but it is not their Life to live.

So they sit and wait for it to be Over.

Their only Companion is themselves.

And the reason for that is because they are Introverts.

That is all that they ever have been, and all that they ever will be.

AN: Yes, I realize this took quoting myself to a whole new level. I wanted to show a bit of foreshadowing as my plans for this book of poetry I have grown so very attached to. Here's a hint (all the poems are going to be related and tied in together by the end of this book, possibly telling a story) And yes, I do plan to end this book at some point, but don't worry. Not for a while and I do plan on starting something new when it is done. I feel like I'm getting too formal, I love you guys, keep being awesome okay, and I'm not kidding, I really really love you. I mean the last time I checked this book was number 199 in poetry (377 just a week ago). And that's only because I have the most amazing supporters <3. I love you, thank you so much for helping advance in the one thing I love more then anything. Thank you again, bye : )