About time we had some more of my old poetry

This sequence of poems was written back when I used to work for a company that used to subcontract my IT skills to various other companies. One of the consequences of that kind of work is that you never really get to know your fellow employees very well an one of the consequences of that is that you don't know anyone at the Christmas party. Now as I wouldn't normally been seen dead within a hundred miles of a works party this shouldn't be a problem. However on this occasion the party was more or less compulsory.
I went. I had a terrible time.
I sat in the dining room of the hotel the following morning eating breakfast and wrote these poems. They are not very good and a bit self-pitying but that's probably how I felt at the time. I say probably because I wrote them more than twenty years ago and I really can't remember.

Solitary Symphony

Part 1: Before the Ball

Invited for cocktails,
Served in the lounge bar -
Invitation received,
To be read and obeyed.
I knew it would be
A trial and ordeal.
I had to disguise
That I was dismayed.
It started with ten,
Then twenty, then thirty,
Then forty, then fifty.
Then I arrived.
I'd changed into my
New shirt and new jacket
New shoes and new trousers
And even new tie.
Took a drink from a tray
Looked left, then looked right.
Looked up, then looked down.
There was no one I knew.
Tried to join in
This and that conversation,
Felt so conspicuous,
But what could I do.
Saw some faces I'd seen
A few times before.
I'd forgotten their names,
But I didn't care.
The dinner bell rang.
They moved to the ballroom.
The tables were laid.
I followed them there.
I sat at the table.
I could feel them wonder,
"Who is this stranger,
And why is he here."
No one voiced the question
And unless they asked it
It was not information
I could volunteer.

Part 2:Table For Ten

The table is set for ten,
But it's seating only nine.
The chair that's standing empty
Is standing next to mine.

There is a hum of empty chatter,
The chink of knife on plate.
Everyone is happy,
Everyone has a date.

They halt their conversations
To ask me what I think.
To tell the honest truth,
I think I need a drink.

They listen without hearing
As I compose my reply.
Then they talk to each other
But never meet my eye.

I wonder whose embarrassment
Is greater, theirs or mine,
That a table set for ten
Is seating only nine.

When the meal is over
And the music has begun,
Eight people join the dancing
At the table there is one.

The disco lights are starting
To liquefy my brain.
This is supposed to be a pleasure,
So why does it feel like pain.

Someone sees that I'm not dancing
And insists that I should try
But where's the fun in dancing
With someone else's wife.

They forget me in a moment.
I take the chance to slip away.
Will they notice I am gone?
If they do, what will they say?

How can I believe
That things are working fine,
When the table set for ten
Always seats just nine?

Part 3: Breakfast in the Aftermath Ballroom

It's something that has to be said.
It's something that I need to say.
I was not here by choice, you know,
I'd much rather have stayed away.
But I gave in to the pressure.
I could not invent enough lies.
I gave in and came to the party last night
I wish I had come in disguise.
A stranger alone in a strange world -
A world filled with Siamese twins.
What I hoped would have changed, I don't know
Why on Earth did I give in.

Now I'm eating a solitary breakfast
And I know they're still watching me,
Alone in a crowd in the aftermath ballroom.
What are they expecting to see?
Now I'm eating a solitary breakfast -
My last act before I get up and leave.
Without looking at them in the aftermath ballroom
I wipe a tear away on my sleeve.

Part 4: Eternal Coda

"Why were you alone?" she says.
"There was no one with me." I reply.
It isn't strictly honest,
But it can't be called a lie.

I don't want to be alone,
But it seems time after time
That a table set for ten
Is seating only nine.