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Not Invited

When it’s that time of year for beer and reunion
For high-jinks and thoughts and comradely communion
And having a party to be reunited
There’s one who won’t be there – who wasn’t invited.

I don’t like to dance or to wear fancy dress.
I don’t feel the need to get up and impress.
To watch drunken foolishness makes my blood freeze,
I’m even embarrassed by a loud public sneeze.

I’ve never been trendy or one of the boys,
I’m pretty much deaf when there’s ambient noise.
So when events come that are “Not to Be Missed!”
My name won’t be on the participant list.

Never a guest or a welcome Plus One,
Passed over in favour of someone more fun.
My absence not noted, my presence omitted –
Twas always that way – my face never fitted.

Do I feel jealous when old friendships I see
Renewed over decades, that don’t include me?
Does my heart give a lurch, do I feel rejected -
Old Billy No-mates who’s always neglected?

Well it doesn’t feel great, I can tell you for nowt
When lifelong friends are the friends I’m without.
But there’s no point bemoaning a fate that is set,
Nobody cares if I rue or regret.

If I can’t join in, then the problem’s myself.
Where friends are concerned, mine’s a life on the shelf.
So when there’s a gathering, I won’t get excited.
I guess I won’t be there – I wasn’t invited.

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