I am the black sheep of the family;

I read a book whilst amidst company,

Getting looked down upon for not speaking.

No nice places for being introverted,

As I have been judged by everyone.

I have emerged embracing the darkness,

Growing soft black wool to keep me warm,

Like a blanket or sweater of cotton,

Shielding me from all the judgments rotten.

I graze in a green pasture far away.