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I am the ugly girl who gets good grades
The no nonsense nerd that never gets respect
The one who no matter how hard I try, I never get noticed
Yes, I am stupid
Yes, after so long, I remember how I am annoying, trust me, I remember
And Yes, I am the girl that you openly laugh at over and over again
After so long, I have finally realized,
I am Pluto,
once a planet, but not anymore
due to the conformity of the human race.
Who are you to decide where to put the fence post,
which animals are allowed on the side with green grass,
instead of the side with wolves.
Why is it up to you,
to decide which of us walk through the hallway praying not to bump into you,
always making us scared to do anything because of your taunting laughs.
Sometimes I wish that you would just drown in the ashy river that flows down my face.
The river caused by you.
Though my hour hand remains intact, you always manage to make my minute hand lack.
You make me feel like a window,
tortured by the way you always cover me up with blinds,
not letting the sun through.
Your own sun is blocked by blinds,
that you stick there yourselves,
weaved thick by popularity
I will always wonder why you must act the way you do.
Maybe, someday when you are older, you will realize that you were wrong,
that you didn’t have to act this way.
Acting the way you do does nothing for you in life but give you the brief feeling of being superior.
Why don’t you try getting off your high stools for once, and come down to the real world, because you are not that different from me.
Down here is where you will have the most success.
But maybe, I am Pluto for a reason.
Maybe, the world will always have people who get picked on, and those who pick on the people.
I thought that if some of you would at least become aware of what you are doing, then life may be easier for someone.
I hope that some of you are happy that you get to be those to who do the picking.
And maybe, I need to just suck it up.
Maybe, there is no reason at all.
I don’t care what you do to me any longer, because I am tired of you having control over how I feel.
But whether or not there is a reason, I will no longer let you cover up my windows with blinds.
No longer, will I let you make my minute hand lack, or make me Pluto.
I am me, no matter what you say.