National Poetry Month: Poem 2

It's Saturday again. And now that I managed to catch the livestream, here is the second poem:

Special One

Ten thousand People come and go,
Without business with whom to deal,
One lady in a very prominent red dress,
Being escorted by the man in a dark suit;
They cause in me a deal of distress;
Such a feeling is beyond what is called real,
But I accept and move on, though.

Them look back I only can,
And contemplate my experience;
I try my best to stand out,
And the dark-suit man blends in;
Now I still live alone, no doubt;
And it is because of such adherence,
That the victor was the dark-suit man.

Where is my special one?

Good night, and good luck.