Yellow looked good on certain people, for example you.
My brown hair clashed with the yellow. Making my figure look ugly. But once again, when it came to you, it didn't matter.
The button up was something more classy than I'd wear; just a pair of jeans and a hoodie.
Hopping onto the bus, you sat a few seats in front of where I sit, passing by you, made me nervous.
I smile at you, but you direct your attention somewhere else, your phone.
My smile fades as I reach the back of the bus, where I drop my backpack at my feet.
Sadness overcomes my features,
My yellow shirt going unnoticed.
