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It’s not my fault she has no friends.
Why should it be my responsibility?
It’s not my fault he dresses weird,
With ragged jeans and greasy hair.
It’s not my fault she sits alone
With her face hidden behind a book at lunch.
It’s not my fault he is a walking calculator.
Why should I talk to him?
It’s not my fault water pools in her eyes
every time her ex-best friends pass and snicker.
It’s not my fault he’s too into video games
to even know what the real world is.
It’s not my fault he looks like a Snow White dwarf,
I guess it’s just bad genes.
It’s not my fault she doesn’t know how to match,
Polka dots, checks and stripes are not a fashion.
It’s easy to hide these people in the back of my head.
Forget about them with a passing thought.
I see these people every day.
But do I care?
Because maybe it is my fault
they feel alone.
Maybe I should stop lying to myself,
and stop making excuses.