Persisting in the niche, all on my own,

Nobody to chat with, all alone.

While others trip and buzz around in rapture,

I stand in that secluded nook, gaping unknown.

 

How ominous is this atmosphere, right?

So many souls nearby, but you don’t respond alright.

How callous and dampening it appears,

That you are alone in that mob tonight.

 

It might make your heart burn to the core,

To see everyone enjoying more and more,

Jabbering, babbling, tripping, and dining,

While you stand there, feeling sore.

 

Being a misfit is a feeling so wicked,

When you stand apart, feeling omitted.

Amongst the array of people around you,

Nothing is there, just a sensation of being misfitted.

 

Yashika Verma is a writer and poet. She is from the city of Prayagraj and loves to write and read. Her main area of interest is writing sonnets, ballads, and fiction short stories. Her favourite author is Ruskin Bond. She plans to become a full-time author later in life.