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What I see in this world makes it so hard not to cry. What do you see in this girl as she does walk by? You don’t talk to her, Nor share her fears. What do you really know about her pain that nears? See her eyes flash and flair with hate. Watch her hands tremble with the pills she’s about to take. Black lipstick, nail polish, and even a jail tattoo. This is only… who she is to you. She cries in the corner; Running down the corridor. She breaks the rules; Just to act a fool. Here in her bedroom she lays and her blood pools. |
ouch. Well. Speaking from experience, I can say this write is fabulous. Society today sees only what they wish to see. They label and stereotype those they wish to stir clear of, not wishing to truly know them in any form or fashion. They see the black, the scars, the chains and label -outcast- When in fact, that outcast could one day save the world! Who is to judge these days who is who and make themselves up on pedestals? ->Dark Angel | Posted on 2007-09-04 00:00:00 | by drk_angl_17 | [ Reply to This ] | This was written very well. I love the structure and the rhyme, they fit wel together. I know how it feels to be that way. Hell, I still know. | Keep up the great work, and I'll keep reading Miss Misery | Posted on 2007-09-04 00:00:00 | by brknprclndol | [ Reply to This ] | |