As we sat in the bleachers,
In our 9th grade year.
We waited in silence,
For the crown of the King.
It was tradition,
Each year to do so.
I didn't care much,
Cause I couldn't win Queen.
The teachers all talked,
The students all smiled.
I just sat there,
Bored all the while.
The principal came up,
Announced the name.
Marco Hernandez,
Had just won King.
Now for the Queen,
The one little prize,
That every girl dreams to be,
Since junior high.
Each girl squeals,
With the exception of few.
I roll my eyes casually,
Pull those girls with me.
We leave the gymnasium,
Not caring of the trouble.
Cause the crowning of the Queen,
Is not worth my time.
I can't win it,
Neither can my friends.
The popular girls,
Always steal it away.
Author notes
I'm in 9th grade...or at least going into it. No, we don't have one of these ceremonies, but that's basically what would happen.
Marco probably would hate me if he could read this poem, but he's one of those popular jerks that doesn't really care about the geeks and unpopular people.
D:
Comments?
Comments
-
Marco?
Wow.
He used to be nice.
I don't kow what happened.
He started hanging out with Heather...
Yeeah well
We needn't worry ourselves with these sill popularity contests, cause we're cool just being ourselves.
nd don't worry I don't want to be crowned Queen, so there will never be a need for you to pull me away...
Lol.
I don't like all that attention...
you never know.
Watch you become Homecoming Queen Sneior year.
and don't defy me.
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