My suit is wrinkled, fresh yet wasted Food is before me, barely tasted Everyone dances, their dates close at hand I sit alone, yet I understand This should faze me, yet somehow I don't care
The floor is neon lit and the room is dark Colours there to illuminate, to bring a spark I walk through the couples who dance away My mind is blurred as the music plays My Ex-date sees me and stares the other way "Its alright" I say, I predicted she would never stay She finds my consideration queer I carry on walking, my direction never steers
I'm outside in the cold, my hands feel numb My mind is faded, to darkness I succumb "Thyreez" I hear a voice in the wind I see her and the real night begins No face is needed, I Remember the voice I stare from the balcony, the venue was a great choice "So I" she speaks, but I'm not bothered to listen The shadow holds my hand, I push it back "Go on, go inside, go enjoy your final year, go grab a snack" She finds my request rude and storms in I'm alone, a silent but well deserved win I check my phone "19:45" 2 more hours The rest of the night will be spent staringΒ atΒ towers
A poem on how I expected Matric Ball to be before Covid cancelled it, I don't exactly share these ideas anymore but still always found them as lonely affairs if not with friends you know