What Becomes of the Introvert?What becomes of the renegadesWhat Becomes of the Introvert? by ~RiFlight
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and their late-night ways?
What has solitude earned them
that others might envy?
A friendship with the stars?
A kinship with the moon?
Who are those aloof few
who discern the abstract?
They are the introverts.
They tinker and toy as they toil,
burning their midnight oil for an idea.
They are the shy minority,
the mysterious, lost in solemn thought,
solving all the world's problems
as if it were no trouble at all.
How do they survive?
How do they endure
in an extroverted world,
which cares more for the unreserved?
They feed on knowledge
and thrive on philosophy,
They need no approval
and ask for no attention.
They are the untiring dreamers,
the silent creators of invention.
So be kind to the expert thinkers,
those taciturn sages,
for without the introverts' work,
how would humanity have made it?
IntrovertSo drown today in silver dreamsIntrovert by ~ducksXsayXmoo
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We both know you'll never achieve
(Oh melancholy, love, can't you snap out of this?)
Slam the door just like before
Surround yourself in poet's lore
(Oh melancholy, love, can't you just let yourself live?)
Shedding lies and alibis to the tune of half a person,
'Cause you wouldn't think to sing yourself to sleep
Off-key vocals paint your world so melancholy blue,
Sing your heart out, words couldn't be any more untrue
So lose your mind to vacant screams
And safety-pinned saints on your jeans
(Oh melancholy, love, don't you lose your mind to this)
The mystery of fate's a lie
From sabateur in poet's guise
(Oh melancholy, love, don't be content with how this is)
Shedding "why"s and second tries to the sound of pre-dawn silence
'Cause you'll never risk for dreams you bury deep
Off-key daydreams paint your world so bruised, so black and blue,
Dry your eyes with lullabies your mother sang to you
You'll never be your daydreams
And you'll never lose this spite