An Introvert's New Years Eve

Twas the night before New Years, and I sat on my couch.

The day was quite festive, but I felt like a grouch.

In front of me lay invitations quite smartly

For New Year’s Eve outings and plans and parties.

I stared at them carefully and tried to decide

Which to attend, but I gave up and sighed.

I pictured a party all loud and too bright

And wished I could just stay in for the night.

Like many I loved spending time with my friends

But I love it much more when the night finally ends.

I wished I could just stay home and read books

But whenever I say this I get lots of strange looks

“But why?” ask my friends, “would you rather stay in?”

“We’ll have so much fun and there’s going to be gin!”

“You can’t sit alone with only sweatpants to wear.

You have to come out.  You’ll thank us, we swear.”

I wish that my friends could begin to understand

That what’s fun for them, leaves me quite drained.

And after awhile, I just want to escape.

It’s nobody’s fault; it’s just how I’m made.

So this New Year’s Eve, I’ll stick to my guns

And spend the night doing what I think is fun.

At home with my books I can say without a doubt,

“Happy New Years to all!  I’ll sit this one out.”