I was that little girl.

I've changed a lot. Thank God for that. But i'll always be the same Lyric. I can't change that. It's a flash back I guess. Call me the ghost of puberty past.

I was always the one explaining Shakepeare...To the teachers.

Yes, I was the strange girl writing in her journal on school trips, while sitting up on the bleachers,

not paying attention to the world she lived in,

 treated it all like air,

 

It was almost like, she was never really there.

She'd just sit in the corner,

shying at every little inocent questioning stare.

Head bobbing, one earphone dangling down the side of her chin,

the one the least expected, but most determined to win.

Didn't want to admit that on her own that would never happen.

Keep your thoughts to yourself.

Don't ever hang your accomplishments, your, pride and joy up on the shelf.

Someone might see them. 

And I was scared of that.

Not something i'd ever admit, 

but give them my feelings? 

I'd rather them beat them out of me with a baseball bat. 

So what I asked my self was,

'what's the point?"

But what's not the point of that?

All the noise, and the hate and the loud, loud bells, 

would float straight past my ears no Heavens or Hells.

Just the places in my mind, that's where i'd dwell.

Where the comments never stung and the wounds would never swell.

That's where i'd be.

People said it was imaginary but those places set me free,  

gave me something to look forward to, a vision to see.

I was never black or white,

You never knew if that day i'd be the one screaming or breaking up the fight,

all I ever was,

was this big blank, grey space.

You had to be careful, not many things I told you about myself weren't lies.

And surprise!

It wasn't a faze, and it wasn't a trend.

I was always seen as different,

that didn't change in the end.

Green was black.

And yellow was pink.

That was just me.

Just the way i'd think.

and somehow, my mind was always on the brink,

of proving something to myself,

or giving up and letting all 'un perfect' ideas just sink.

Well that was me.

Whether you call it growing up, 

or it's synonym insanity.

I wasn't ever perfect.

And i'll never be.

Author's Note

Hi! Hope you like it.

Reviews

[Shawna]

This is a great poem. I think it captures the experience of that kid who is always on the outskirts, who never quite fits in, and is never really sure if they even want to fit in. It can be hard to that kid, until you grow up and learn that the adults who were those kids are the ones who really learn to give meaning to their lives. When we grow up we learn that fitting in wasn't all we thought it was when we were kids. Nice :) you took me back to high school. Thanks for the time travel moment...

[Lyric]

Thanks for the review :]