Standing out there in the bitter cold,
without any warmth or light to comfort me.

I would knock on your door
but I'm too afraid rejection is all I will see.

Feeling incompetent when I see you all together,
huddled in your little cult circle.

I try to avert my attention to an outside source,
yet my countenance fails to hide the true obstacle.

I want to be liked, to be looked up to,
not unpopular.

Upon looking back, wishing I had favor from others
is one of the biggest mistakes I'd ever made.

You can determine your own path;
Decide where to go.

I sense hope for the future,
see a light in the dark tunnel,
hear a sweet melody through a deaf person's ears,
taste honey on the bitter part of the tongue,
and feel inspired, even when you shun me out of
Your Supremely Popular Coalition for Fun and Successful People.

So sorry that I missed out on the grand invitation,
not. (it didn't exist)

The snow is falling ever so softly here,
Their gentle rest upon preceding flakes is ever so calm.

I loved once and I do love now,
how my mind is at rest, free from your affliction.

To think of it now,
it's rather pretty outside, don't you agree?