Am I a social butterfly?
Instead I feel like I’m about to cry.
Am I a social butterfly?
Oh, hell no, I feel like I’m about to die.
The anxiety hits,
The panic sets in,
Dear Lord, where is the exit sign?
I hope it is near.
The people laughing, chattering, and running a muck,
Oh holy hell, I just got stuck.
“Oh, hi, hello!” as my voice begins to quiver,
“You from around here?” Asks the burly guy, who is tall as timber.
My fight or flight has truly kicked in,
There’s no way in hell, I am gonna win.
This fight today, against my fears is a loss,
I turn to look at Mr. Timber, but he looks lost.
Lost in my silence, I’ve still said nothing yet,
Oh, holy hell, my words are a babbling mess.
“Um, yes. Wait no. What was the question again, please?”
Oh, that thing is happening, I feel so weak at the knees.
Mr. Timber starts to chuckle, as I’m wobbling to and fro,
Oh, here comes the puke fest,
“Thanks Mr. Timber, I gotta go!”
I moved through the room as fast as I could,
And here comes another chatty person,
I wish they would,
Step out of my way, oh please, oh please, oh good.
I no longer have to converse with anyone,
I’m free, I’m good.
Well, this debacle was a pure mess.
I guess antisocial it is, I don’t have to guess.
Maybe tomorrow, or another day soon,
I’ll try socializing with people, just not before noon.