After the PArty

I guess I missed the party.
Again.
As soon as I free up some time to come-
Everyone has long gone.
They leave me things.
Cups, chips, a slice of cake.
And I thank them for that
But i'm not supprised the lights are out
The chairs and tables positioned randomly
The ghosts of games and funny jokes still mingling in the air.
But its not the same of course, as having people there,
But i never seem to catch them when they are.
I always come late
I don't mind so much, 
I enjoy the cake as much as the next guy-
But it does seem empty a bit, like crickets after a barbaque.
And I feel more of a stealthy elf than a social person
But its a good way to clear my head maybe- in all the comfortable silence.
After all, they left me cake.
And I know they'll appreciate whatever I make them in return
even if they see it after I am long gone.