Cliques of three,
They can never be.
There's always a third wheel,
and it's always me.
Best friends were me & he.
I really liked she, and she really liked me.
I brought us all together.
We became a clique of three.
He and she became very close, you see?
It seemed as though they both forgot about me.
With their inside jokes and constant giggling,
I became jealous, the third wheel was me.
Our relationship crumbled, the one of she and me.
I broke her heart, you see?
But she broke mine first.
He sided with she, and all alone was me.
I was then betrayed by he.
My best friend now hated me.
I was filled with regret for bringing them together,
Neither of them actually loved me.
We eventually made up, he & me
But things were never the same between we.
I was no longer his first choice friend
That title now belongs to she.
Me & she also made up.
Now "friends" are we.
But it still is not the same.
And never will be.
Now I must watch the two of them be
together, without me.
They are now sweethearts.
They have left all but a heartache, and a scar on me.
Cliques of three,
They can never be.
There's always a third wheel,
and it's always me.
YOU ARE READING
The Sad Story of the Third Wheel.
PoetryAll of us have felt like a third wheel before. We've felt like an outsider, we've felt as though we are losing someone we care about. I wrote this poem inspired by an experience I had of being a third wheel. It's relatable, and tells a story.
