Background: As I reclined late last Monday night and listened to Lupe Fiasco’s ‘Little Death’ instrumental, words gradually formed in my mind and a week and a half later, this is the result. Enjoy! Note: This is not the experience of everyone that would consider themselves an introvert.
As I sit and reminisce on a day gone by,
I’m left reeling, wishing “maybe I could turn back time?”
Wish I said all of the things that were locked up in my mind,
But now times gone, it feels like I’m wasting mine.
Feeling lost and alone like a dog without a bone,
Or better yet, a centre-back that’s not marking his zone,
Outcast, like a rapper that’s not flashing his chrome,
Though his got it in abundance, and everybody knows.
World seems like a puzzle that my piece won’t fit,
Say I’m shy and retiring, or I just don’t fit,
The world seems like a stage for those that are extroverted,
The thoughts of an introvert, poetically illustrated.
Opportunities to say things on the tip of my tongue,
When placed in a group, my head slowly drops to the ground,
Like a number in the crowd, feel I’m lost and can’t be found,
So I scramble for my scrapbook to ink thoughts down.
I recharge in solitude, for there lies my fortress,
Walks, music or books, the places I find my fortunes,
Acceptance not needed, I can be who I am,
For God loves me enough, he even came as a man.
Introverts such as Ghandi, Abe Lincoln and Einstein,
All well known thinkers, notable in their lifetimes,
So I don’t need to change how my image is portrayed,
For I know that I’m “fearfully and wonderfully made.”
© 2015, by Gome
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made”