An Elegy for the Introverted
Published in
Nov 22, 2021
Golden light rises shining through her hair,
Up early she is before they all wake;
Her time, sweet time too limited to share,
With alarms, her bubble she’ll now forsake.
The introvert sulks as she sifts through noise,
Desperate for quiet space in her head;
She loves them dearly the girl and the boys,
But her spirit suffocates, her eyes—dead.
Thanks to Ravyne Hawke for today’s prompt.
