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Rated: E · Poetry · Teen · #599256
This is about mainly how life was in Junior high.
The anger in my soul is rising
As I walk down the hall.
I see the looks they give me as I walk past,
The Looks, of hatered, of disgust, of fear, and of pure evil
Make me just want to scream.

I know I do not fit their idea of who a girl is,
But I do not care.
I am the person who I want to be
I am pretty, happy and friendly in my own ways,
Not theirs.

Over? Not This Time
I sit in the hall,
Taking in everything.
I see the backstabbing, deceit and the coldness
But all I can do is laugh
Because it is not my games, it's theirs.
I have lost the first round,
But the game has only begun.
They think they will win
Because the game belongs to them
Well they are wrong
I am the Watcher,
I have the power to bring them down
Round two starts as I hear the bell
They think I am finished, I have lost
I will not loose, they are wrong.
I will win, without desite
It may be their game,
But I know the rules.
Game on.
© Copyright 2003 Apie Poo (tubagodess at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/599256-Friends