Since the dawn of self-reflection, I have been an inert gas,
Other atoms’ interactions mocking me, as I flew past.
Every time I saw two bonding, I would quickly look away,
My full outer shell reminding, solitude is here to stay.
Looking at those lucky ions, never did I see the facts,
Never did I grasp the science, one who gives, and one who takes.
Can the atoms both be merry if their dipole is so charged?
Or do their nuclei carry hearts that shattered into shards?
I have circled a few atoms, now that I can speak their tongue:
Those with brains looked unimpressive; those with good looks sounded dumb.
Those with both were cold and distant, their electrons long since shared,
Atoms much stronger than this one waiting for their chance with her.
Now you beckon me with riddles, and all of this is so new —
Our polarity is brittle, and I don’t know what to do.
But regardless of what happens, Heisenberg remains unkind:
One of two forever present: thirst of flesh, and thirst of mind.