In the quiet corners of a bustling crowd,
Lies a soul wrapped in gentle shrouds.
Eyes that gaze and thoughts that drift,
A world within, a precious gift.

The whispers of the wind, the rustle of leaves,
Speak louder than the loudest pleas.
In silence, they find their voice,
In solitude, they rejoice.

Not alone, but deeply rooted,
In a world where noise is muted.
They paint with colors of the mind,
A tapestry of thoughts, one of a kind.

So, if you see them lost in reverie,
Know they’re sailing on an inner sea.
An introvert’s journey is not to flee,
But to find peace, profoundly free.