It’s sad to know that I will never be first.
I will never be the reason you wake up in the morning and smile.
The last face you see before you close those pretty eyes is mine.
It’s sad, but I’m always left behind.
My heart is sour from the pain of arrows shot right through it.
My skin turns pale from the longing of your touch.
The feeling of your hot breath, as cool as ice against my ear.
It’s lonely because I know I’ll never be the chosen one.
Spring passes, and summer comes, but still, you never look at me like you used to.
Fall goes by, and the cold winter breeze brings about no change.
You still don’t see me like you see them.
Though I’m here, clinging onto your sweater and preserving your scent,
Just so I can hold onto you for as long as the winter breeze blows.
Knowing fully well when it’s gone, I will be swept away with it.
It’s sad, but I’m always left behind.
