The Middle

I am from the middle,
A place where no one accepts me.
Not quite old enough,
But not quite a little kid anymore.
Not quite beautiful enough,
But not the worst looking.

I am from the middle,
Halfway, liking the city,
But the other half belongs
Down that winding dirt road.
The place on the corner.
With the shingles peeling off.
With the kids playing,
Where no one can reach us.
So leave a message.

I am from the middle,
Where everyone tells me a rich,
But somehow there’s never enough money.
Only enough to get by.
I eat Ramon Noodles,
Even though we can afford more.
But that just wouldn’t be right.

I am from the middle,
A place where I am strong
And week.
Where I don’t shed a tear,
But somehow my pillow is soaked.
A place where I pretend
That I am something worth value,
But I am not.

I am just a girl from the middle,
Who will never be good enough
To be on top.





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