Confined in a cage with no marker
to tell people walking past who I am.
They live their lives without me,
too caught up in their own games
to worry about those desperate to be seen.
I sit here, alone, in the company of nothing,
not even dreams offer to show themselves here.

Everyone is out having fun,
I not allowed an invite to the show.
They show what they were up to
not realising they are rubbing my face in it.
Look how much fun we had. You should have been there.
I could have been there if only you asked.

I feel worn out now, like my bones
have been sanded down with disappointment
and the shavings swept under the rug.
One or two might notice the lump
but before long, enough people walk over it
and it soon disappears until the next one.

Wave upon wave of euphoria miss me.
I’m starting to get tired of being missed out,
friends out dancing under the moonlight
while I sit in shadows by my silent phone,
waiting to hear about how someone else’s night went.
They never ask about mine because they already know,
they left me behind with my broken brain
and fucking hatred for everything they are.
Stanza 3 is awesome. The first two contradict one another. First, you're a plain and forgotten specimen. Next, you're privy to shared conversation. I'd alter the first. The closed-off zoo animal idea is lost in the rest of the piece. I completely get where you're coming from, but narrow your focus. You have hope in the waves of euphoria. That line alone holds a double meaning. Use it.
I am a fake mountain.