Left Out

'

She floats on the periphery

Gazing at the concentric circles, rings of

People buzzing, contented

With each other's familiarity

She wishes she was one of them –

A social butterfly

'

She doesn't know why her

Eyes

And hands

And stiff smile

Don't offer as much

Friendliness

As she'd like them to

Why conversations seem to die when

She's the only one left to talk to…

Why the spark fades from their eyes

And their grins lose luster

Even though

Perhaps

They didn't mean to have it that way

'

She wonders wholeheartedly –

How to grow wings.

'

I guess that's why she feels

Such kinship

With her favourite library

Where she isn't

Obliged

To talk to bookshelves and strangers,

Where she can stay grounded

Yet sample iridescent

Flights of fancy

Where having herself as the only passenger

Needn't ever be inadequate

'

Where solitude doesn't come laced with

Guilt.

'


A/N: There. Hmm, I promise I'll write a poem that actually rhymes someday… but for now, comments?:P