They all admire her as
she walks with such pride,
such grace.
When she enters the room,
all heads will surly turn.
Her beauty breeds envy,
and thick clouds of jealousy.
Every major decision
depends on her mood.
boys try to glance,
yet eyes are glued.
Stopping,
glancing in to a mirror.
Lips covered in gloss,
easier to be seen.
As she walks through the halls,
eyes that follow
bounce with her every step.
Everyone wants to be this girl,
just for one day.
Then just maybe,
the others at school will not call them
ignorant,
stupid,
or gay.
Author notes
This is about the cruel world in high school and the labels we are often given; cool, popular, dorky or all right.
A contest entry
- Where be your army? by Pixie Girl.
400 points, ended January 17, 2008, 6 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
remember the popular kids and school and how much we wanted to be them.
Comments
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congrats on the bronze
School has always been tough and you wrote this well, as an exspression. I sometimes think it is a curse to be looked upon as popular for than everyday it is work to hold your spot. Somedays when I would wake in the mornings to get ready for school, I wished that I was the girl that no one would notice, so I did not have to spend an hour in the mirror and 30 minutes deciding what not to wear, and skipping breakfeast and lunch and my cheerleading uniform would fit. Now that I am older, I realize that it does not matter who we are in highschool because we become the total opposites as adults, as I sit here eating my chocolate cake for lunch
a well deserved broze...
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You nailed this with perfect truth. Sad as it may be this is the harsh reality of highschool, and any school at that. This should have placed it is really good.
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