Outsider Poem by RIC BASTASA

i had it once
walking with a friend
meeting his lover
along this crowded
alley to the mall
then, they look
at each other
with dreamy eyes
hold hands,
sit together on
a chair on a round
table and they
speak their own language
and speak some more
on anything
sweet nothings

i become
non-existent
i have become
to them the perfect
outsider

love the circle
that takes them
exclusively in
where everybody
are outsiders
mindlessly