"It was like a dream,
Why must I go through this?"
These are the questions I ask,
glancing at my reflection,
Before going to school.
What fun it is to be despised.
The strands of hair on my face, like strands of yarn, tangled and rough. I attempt to shield my identity, as if someone can see my soul, through my eyes, so I hide them from the world.
No one gets me, not even my "family." Yah, I'm different, but does different know understanding?
Is life it self a lie?
Who knows, not an outcast like me.
But I must say, the up side of being alone, seperated,
is the fact that you have your own self proclaimed image...
Great, what fun it is to be labled...
Before leaving the house, my home,
I take another glance,
as if my last breath,
not for just looks alone
but for reassurance.
Lost in my thoughts,
deep within my head,
I get pulled out of my imagination
and back to reality.
I walk to school.
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