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Followers
Followers
Followers in their minds
in their actions and investments
Followers of the worldly drifts
Followers of each other
In a constant circle
Centered around themselves
They follow each other
And what is popular
They think it makes them important
they think the latest trends make them mean something
And yet they get no where
Except where they started
And with nothing
Except gain of worldly uselessness
That they are tricked to believe mean happiness
Followers
In their worldly drifts
But no
There are some
Not many, but few
One in particular
That don’t follow
one that doesn’t drift in circles of popular opinion and possession
One that is confident
Independent
One unlike the rest
One who knows who she is
They scoff at her
For she is hurt
They ignore her downcast her
For she is silent in her agony
Her pain intangible, yet merciless they know
Is not odd they laugh at her
They scoff and mock at her agony
Her pain is their delight
Her difference their obsession
Their victim
Is not odd, again I say, that they find her pain humorous
That they find her sorrow amusing
Is it not odd, those facts, that they are amused in her agony
When they gave it to her so carelessly
So freely bestowed it upon her with force enough to stifle
is it not odd, they laugh, at the results of their own emptiness of mind and spirit
And dignity
The dignity she had
The dignity they lacked
The dignity that they killed.
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this poem is something i wrote telling the story of what it's like in my world being a teenager that stands out