The Teenager

Sitting on the sidelines, unnoticed
her words of heart are insecure
as a schoolgirl runs
every flaw is a blemish
she's not one to speak
so she writes herself
a seclusion, dotting the "I's"
her all important capitol "I's"
counted in a spiral notebook
a lonely two or three of the "I's"
open to close the underscore
adding more lines of her lonely stress
I feel ugly
I feel stupid
I feel unsure, she writes
Sometimes her eyes are talking
to worlds that cannot or will not
listen
and so writes and she dreams
A diary day and a butterfly