I sit, I stare, I carry away,
Myself, my own, out of the way,
For the ones who I care, and would love till it ends,
I keep out of the way of my friends.
No sense in Hiding it, it simply doesn't matter,
They don't even want to sit and chatter,
So that's it then, it's over, my social movement comes to a close,
Thanks once again friends, your help, it really shows.
Author notes
Once, again, how I feel. But oh joy, it's in 8 lines 
A contest entry
- 8-Line Poems by Daire.
550 points, ended January 23, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
I'm definitely one of those people who sits alone in the corner at parties. Which always reminds me of the song 'Swallowed' by Bush ("I'm with everyone and yet not"). 'Mingle' was never a word in my dictionary. Being socially awkward is a curse but it only makes it all the sweeter when you meet people you click with. This has a very good first two lines and I like how you rhyme 'matter' with 'chatter' and 'close' with 'shows'.
-
This is a great write.
I really liked it.
Adding your comment:
