I think I am always an afterthought,
one that people seem to disregard,
It seems that people call me when there is nothing left,
and I don't know how I feel about being being second best.
Dates are asked and promised,
and phone calls are never returned,
the tightly tied strings of friendship are fringed and burned.
The effort is never made,
as it is assumed I will always be there,
an afterthought, a maybe,
forgotten without a care.
You don't jump at the chance to be with me,
it's always a "maybe", or a "we will see."
I am not number one on any lists,
not "best looking", or "who I want to kiss."
But I'm an afterthought,
the one lingering in the back of your mind,
the "not too bad", the "she's okay",
"with her it's an alright time."
An afterthought,
I do not want to be,
But a first thought,
the one you want to see.