I saw you and was immediately off balance,
Because you were not only incredibly, as a matter of fact stunningly, beautiful,
You could also dance.
The man you were all over looked like he had better plans,
You were just a plus and his lack of focus as he immersed himself in the phone in his hand,
Was an infinite source of my disgust,
He literally just had one hand on your ass,
And the other was clearly buried deep in his masturbatory ego chant over some IM chat.
I, the typical me, came up to you momentarily,
I said “Excuse me, I’m only going to say this and be on my way (at once)”
“You’re an incredible dancer and I think you’re amazingly beautiful.”,But, alas!
The king of apathy returned,
And there you were back to him and back at it with the jiggling at your poorest excuse of a fan,
This strapping bloke with no interest in you beyond a lazily-placed hand,
And the fact that you still tried so hard,
That you were quite literally bending over for this man,
That’s that shit that makes me sad.
Oh maybe I’ll meet you again someday,
Dance with you face-to-face with my phone indescribably far away,Or maybe with indifferent species like these you’ll stay,
And in your 40s rue each wasted day.
Let’s see hey!
I’ll just be here sipping my water and praying,
That you cease to be as visibly invisible to him,
As to you I remain.
Yours perhaps never,
Evans Mbora Campbell.
The Visible Invisible.