The Outsider

The outsider sits 
and sips his tea.
Head tilted , ready for action , 
tea poised, 
he watches . 
Lost in his thoughts.
He stirs 
to attain comfort as
revellers ignore 
his motionless stare.
I watch 
the outsider , 
myself removed,
Apart 
from the laughter and the bustle
Of alcohol 
fueled faux friendship.
Everyone talking , 
nobody listening
As they dance and jump , 
he glares. 
No smile 
in the emotionless eyes. 
Hair ponied at the rear , 
he stalks his prey.
Of a sudden he rises , 
sweeps his bag onto a broad shoulder and walks 
further into the throng. 
Song after song , 
he is submerged;
lost in the abyss. 
Awkwardly 
I stir , 
now the outsider,
with no focus. 
Alone 
I  watch 
and wait 
for my delightful prey to return.