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The Artist

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I’m ashamed if what I have become
I wish I were different, especially in one way
It seems like everything and everybody changes
Once they hit high school
We are separated and classified into different categories
But I don’t feel like I have a group
I feel like I’m on the island of misfit toys
Without any hope of being noticed or wanted
I immerse myself into my books, trying to avoid the emptiness
And that seems to work, but only for a little while
When I meet their gazes in the hall, I see my reflection in the glazed eyes
Rejection
Among the class, I fall into the group know as “the artists”
People say it’s my imagination or don’t worry about it
I try, but can’t pull myself away from their loathed tones
I wish they could see the pain they inflict on me
Then they may realize that I’m not depressed, but hurt
The cold outside hits my face as I walk up the driveway
Instead of relaxing me, it only seems to fuel the pain
This pain is not a physical pain, but more personal
It makes your head pound, eyes tearful, and heart throb
And there is nothing you can do about it but endure it
Sometimes I wish I could jump into the books I read
I wish I could be Edward Cullen and just run away at fool speed
Or maybe Frodo with the one ring that makes you invisible
I wish I was at Hogwarts so I could hide in the Room of Requirements
Or have the protection of a armored polar bear.
I wish I could have Aslan as my friend and leader
People spend their entire life wishing, but nothing happens
What else is new?
So, the next time some one labels you as a rejected misfit, just remember,
Your not alone
There are many of us in this lonely world.
But the most important thing to remember is that your peers
Fear what they can not comprehend
And also remember that you have gift,
And you should never let any take that from you, no matter how small it may appear.



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