They built their fires in perfect rings,
With laughter loud and golden things.
I watched from shadows, out of frame,
No seat, no voice, no given name.
Their words were woven, tight and clean,
While mine unraveled in between.
A glance too long, a step too wide—
And I was cast to the outside.
I wore the silence like a cloak,
Each thread a truth they never spoke.
Their rules were written in the sand,
But tides erased what I had planned.
Still, in the quiet, roots grew deep,
In soil they deemed too rough to keep.
I learned to bloom in broken light,
To find my strength beyond their sight.
The stars don’t gather in a crowd,
They shine alone, and just as proud.
So let them dance in firelit grace—
I’ll walk the night and find my place.
For outcasts hold a different flame,
Not born of praise, nor thirst for fame.
But forged in storms that others flee—
A light that burns for only me.