I wore the brightest pink thinking I’d draw a crowd

I wore the brightest pink, thinking I’d draw a crowd,

a beacon, a flash, loud and proud.

But the glances I caught, confused and glazed,

left me feeling invisible, caught in a haze.

I laughed, attempted to shine in the glare,

like a neon sign flickering, hoping someone would care.

The shirt crumpled in the corner, a testament of sorts,

a thing I thought would bring joy, just lonely retorts.