With longing eyes I stare at their table, They look like princesses that came out of a fable. Hair, makeup, and clothes they're so pretty, I look at myself and feel a sense of pity. As they ridicule embarrassment chokes me, the pain is like knives in my back that poke me. Why would they do this, everyday I long to know. They're popular and beautiful what else do they need to show? Never would I hurt, not a fly or an ant. I see they have nothing, that their friends are scant. The shock of how people can really be inside, opens up all of the self concealed lies. I look and I realize that I can see, the best person I can be is me. Beautiful, intelligent, kind little me. Only if everyone else could see, that in themselves there's more to who they are, not what they want to be.
As Envy Grows
November 2, 2011