Shattered Glass

May 2, 2010
I walk up the stairs
My head hanging low
Where the hell am I supposed to go?

No one wants me,
I’m just in the way
Don’t even pretend to listen
To what I have to say

Whatever I do,
Why should they care?
They wouldn’t even notice if I dyed my hair

If I ran away, they wouldn’t look
Wouldn’t even put down their book

I’m the unloved child
At the back of the class
And my heart is made of
Shattered glass





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback