opinons of me...............As, I walk through the door, the crowd stares. I wish I was invisible, everyone here knows my face and name. I walk in embarrassment as I go to a seat. People sneer at me, and talk about me. No, one near knows me. They know of me. Am, I popular no, I am but not as a person as a thing. Lustful, terrifying, mean, jealousy that is what I am popular for. Being promiscuous and foolish that is what is thought of me. This is what I am defined as by many.Am, I like this no, perhaps sometimes I wonder whose opinion is right mine or theirs. What do you think?
A Twisted WorldThe world is twisted,
How one may ask?
Everyone in it tries to thrive and bask.
So, lets try to fast forward this vid.
Vid? Of life of course, we all do this task
Whether it be to fast forward or rewind we never meet in the mid.
We try not to sound vindicted,however we know this is true.
These sights we see and each mask.
Life is twisted without all these forms of tack.
Forms of tack? Yes, they are although they remain fake.
So please don't become a rack.
Let this not remain fate.
Help save this twisted world.
A Nightmare of RealityA girl wails in fear
Her dreams awaken her
Nery a day passes
She does not latch to her memory.
A memory of someone special
Her best friend
But, Why? Could she not save him
This person so dear.
That is all that she wishes,
She could see.
Her dream, the one
with the blackness and a boom
she reawakes and cries
and says, Why? Can I not forget?
The girls secret friend 1st person viewA girl runs too the bathroom it's her third try. No one is here to hear the conversation which she strives. As she has it her face does not show pain, but this time it shows shock. Each day she comes her face shows much surprise. She looks shocked after each time she speaks to me. Shock is now always seen upon her face after our conversations. Yet, as she feels the coldness from my breath upon her face it seems like it is now second-nature to the girl. When our conversations end for the day as the girl leaves she stops and thinks. Her thoughts must be bad for I see her tears stream down her pale face with her blood stained eyes. It seems the girls desire to speak to me arises each day almost like an eternal ritual. She runs to the bathroom to speak with me. As she does she feels my cold breath like a splash upon her skin. She speaks with me as much as she wishes. I see her face each day and the shock grows as I see her reflection through my eyes. Our friendship grows each da
The Sad Little GirlThe sad little girl walks alone
She looks around and wonders
Where did her friends go,
Where are they and their blunders.
The sad little girl says.
She looks and looks
But does not see anyone.
Her friends she trust with her life,
Now they seem out of sight.
So the sad little girl will stand
Standing alone she will dance
Dancing quickly and angrily
Her last thought is what's wrong really
She collapses out of tiredness and tears stream
She hopes one day her life will be bright.