Sitting alone, I observe
Watching other girls converse,
Wishing that I too could socialise
But I can't face their uncaring eyes.
I find it so hard to simply walk over
To leave the safety of my seat, moreover
If I somehow find my confidence
And I use my common sense,
To open my mouth to speak
Alas, my mouth is dry and my voice, a squeak.
And I find no one notices me
So I leave with shaking knees
And if somehow, they do see me
I feel flustered and act oddly.
I feel as though I can't be me
So in my desperate attempt to find company
I pretend to be someone else.
And later when I come back to myself
I find I hate and regret this character
And I wonder if others think badly of her.
And anyway, they're not interested in what I have to say.
But who can blame them, I wouldn't listen and stay,
As I speak of things of which they don't care.
While I know books, they comment on their hair.
Giving up, I return to my seat,
And go back to feeling lonely.
The pain of it is constant and sharp,
But loneliness is quite harsh.
Loneliness, after all, is realising that no one likes you enough to be,
A member of your company.
YOU ARE READING
Pandemonium
Poetrypandemonium noun ' pæn.dəˈməʊ.ni.əm/ US /ˌpæn.dəˈmoʊ.ni.əm/ 1. wild uproar or unrestrained disorder; tumult or chaos. 2. a place or scene of riotous uproar or utter chaos.
