A true introvert has the desire to immure himself in a room. A real introvert has real love for loneliness and silence. His confidant is his personal diary and he avoids large groups of people as much as possible. I am a bona fide introvert and this my short introvert poem:
I am a chronic introvert
With a heart deeply hurt.
Immured in a quiet room,
Here is where my life bloom.
Eschewing a life of celebrations,
Surviving from torn relations.
Solitude is my love and my mate,
I live by the plans of fate.
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