Invisible Poem by Angela Wybrow

Sometimes I wonder if I’m actually even here:
If the space where I am supposed to be is, indeed, just clear.
Stood in a queue, a man walked in, and got served first:
It makes me so annoyed, that I feel like I want to burst.

Do people just not actually see me standing there?
Or is it because I’m so quiet, they basically just don’t care?
People don’t seem to worry how long, I may have been waiting.
Although, my pushiness factor doesn’t score that high a rating!

Sometimes in the street, I say ‘hi! ’ to people who I see,
But they don’t even react and just look straight through me.
When a guard on a train enters my carriage, and shouts ‘Tickets please! ’
How come he bypasses me and it’s only everyone else he sees?

When a person acknowledges that I was next in line, I’m very grateful,
But people who push in front of me, I find just very hateful.
When people queue jump, maybe I look the type, who won’t say anything,
And, maybe, that makes them feel important, just like a king.

If going round a room asking for input, a teacher got sidetracked,
Very rarely, to me, to ask for my opinion, would they come back.
Everyone is important, and everyone really matters.
If people are ignored, their confidence gets battered.

Doesn’t it ever matter to you, what I may think?
I always seem to be the invisible missing link!
If people can see and if, in their head, they’ve got eyes.
The fact that I’m stood there, how can they not realise?

Feeling invisible most of the time is certainly no joke;
I sometimes feel as if I’m wearing an invisibility cloak!
But, when I did my drama exam, I wasn’t ignored,
And, my sense of being, up to the sky, really soared.

That was my moment: it was my moment in time,
And I took the opportunity to prove, that I really could shine.
Maybe I just need to learn to appear as though I’m bold,
So as I no longer feel that I’m being left out in the cold.