Crowds.

One is a lovely number,

Two I can just about do.

When the number supercedes

More than three,

My patience for people is through.

It’s not that I hate the people I with,

But more than one person makes noise;

And each of these people

With all of their foibles

Cause anxiety and can annoy.

I don’t blame them each,

Because the problem is me,

But in large groups of people I’m done.

It’s not out of sorts for me to avoid

Crowds, or once in them seek to be alone.

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