June 10, 2010
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Her cheeks are red,
Like roses or cheery popsicles.
Her eyes scream out,
Fear and embarrassment hidden in them .
Her glasses fall farther down on her nose,
The thick lenses barely hiding her tears.
She sniffles and they laugh.
They all are.
People who pick on others
Just to make themselves look cool.
It makes me nauseous.
I should same something.
I rise out my seat,
And then sit down again.
I can’t.
I’m just like her.
I may be popular.
But that’s where the differences
We’re both the same.
Stuck in a world
That’s not our own.
Both trying to fit in.
I’m just better at it.
I’m popular and…
She’s not.
It’s not fair.
And life’s not fair.
And their not fair.
But nobody does anything to stop

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