Do you even exist?

If those who you care about don’t feel the same,
If the one person you love ignores you,
If you are left in the dark

If you watch your friends depart one by one
Snowflakes blowing into oblivion
If you try to catch them but they float
Up, up, and away
Snowflakes can stick together
Why can’t I?

When I watch the person I love
Ignore me for others
Others whom I despise
From the depths of my heart, I scream
“Go to hell!”
They don’t hear me. I’m just another
Face in the crowd

As I hear and even see my friends
At parties, gatherings, events

As those who tell me
“You’re a great friend! I love talking to you!”
Refuse to say “Hello!” after long
Months of separation

Who can I trust? Even my parents
Seem to ignore me
Leave me to my devices
Don’t they recognize my pain?

Relationships are a two-way street
But I am only traveling in one direction
Forever, hopelessly, uselessly fighting the current
Should I let go? Fall into the abyss?
Would anyone care?

I don’t exist.
Do you?

Thanksgiving is a time for happiness
It says right there in the name
THANKS-giving

But I have no thanks to give this year
I have no friends to share the thanks with
I have no talents to be thankful for
Everybody else is better off than me

Forget looks because looks aren’t everything
I am not an all-state musician like some
I am not a varsity swimmer like some
I am not a straight A student like some

People tell me I am a friend
But I’m not. Every one of them
Forgets to invite me or forgets to respond to me
This friendship has sunk to darkness

At first I didn’t understand. I thought I was
Kind, caring, funny, a good friend
The truth later dawned on me
It broke me.

I no longer care. While others crave turkey
Or cranberry sauce
I crave the sharp tang of iron
The taste of a shotgun

Thanksgiving is a time for happiness
But I have no thanks to give this year
I have no thanks to give.

Oh, on this wondrous Sunday morning glow
The birds are singing pleasant frilly notes.
However, these things I have to forego,
For on a wretched sonnet I now dote.

I’m five lines in, yet nine more lines to go.
The sun is shining; how can I kick-start
This tort’rous sonnet which I think a foe,
Then finish up, and make some real art?

The eve’ning’s come; Oh, this is hard to write!
The TV’s on and while Jay Cutler drops
The football, I’ve been working hard all night
Been harvesting my thoughts as if they’re crops.

At last, I’m done! I’m finished with my quest!
Goodbye, my poem, I’m off to get some rest!