Staring into the past
folder
Original - Misc › Non-Fiction/True Stories/Autobiographical
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
709
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › Non-Fiction/True Stories/Autobiographical
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
709
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of non fiction. Where possible - and where appropriate - permission has been granted from any people or their descendants to be included in this story. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Staring into the past
Long oily hair, braided or tied.
Bushy brows, that never sighed.
Chubby arms and legs, hidden within the fabrics of clothin,
that barely held on to her skin.
Braces upon her teeth, that held the mistake of growth.
Holes within from the missing teeth of her past.
Wide eyes, with a hidden emotion, queit and scared.
Doing nothing, following orders from others.
Within the band jacket she walks, by herself queitly to class. Wanting to hug her bag close, wanting to dissapear and hide. From the faces around her.
Tears within her eyes, as those voices spoke.
No one wanted to be her friend.
No one wanted to talk to her.
No one wanted to date her.
With the group of 'nerds' and 'geeks' she sat, watching from afar.
Watching the noticed girls, whom were slim and trim. The ones boys dreamed off.
The ones she wished to be.
TO get the eyes of the jocks she wanted.
To get the love she wanted.
A sister pushing her, she gave no step, to get fit.
Depression and saddness setting in.
Refusing to boost her up,
refusing to help her smile.
For she was smacked down from every task;
From drama play's, to solo roles of band,
from spirit week, in which her senior sister prazed, pushing her to join.
To end up head first in the bathroom sink, to wash away the dye of her few mintues of joy from her hair.
Tears stream down her face, as she stared at her computer screen, finding out only the metal object filled her time of her life.
No one wanted to be her friend.
I see her, I see her forced smile face within my old year book.
I stare in saddness, knowing that was me I stared upon.
My freshmen self.
Away the fat rolls did go, leaving me thin and slim.
smoother hair, with colors and dye, wth thinner brows in which to bring beauty.
Make-up, to cover my skin, tighter clothing, to have boys look upon me.
I have changed, from my freshmen year.
My fingers do trace, turning the page slowly.
No one wanted to be my friend then,
What will they think now?
Bushy brows, that never sighed.
Chubby arms and legs, hidden within the fabrics of clothin,
that barely held on to her skin.
Braces upon her teeth, that held the mistake of growth.
Holes within from the missing teeth of her past.
Wide eyes, with a hidden emotion, queit and scared.
Doing nothing, following orders from others.
Within the band jacket she walks, by herself queitly to class. Wanting to hug her bag close, wanting to dissapear and hide. From the faces around her.
Tears within her eyes, as those voices spoke.
No one wanted to be her friend.
No one wanted to talk to her.
No one wanted to date her.
With the group of 'nerds' and 'geeks' she sat, watching from afar.
Watching the noticed girls, whom were slim and trim. The ones boys dreamed off.
The ones she wished to be.
TO get the eyes of the jocks she wanted.
To get the love she wanted.
A sister pushing her, she gave no step, to get fit.
Depression and saddness setting in.
Refusing to boost her up,
refusing to help her smile.
For she was smacked down from every task;
From drama play's, to solo roles of band,
from spirit week, in which her senior sister prazed, pushing her to join.
To end up head first in the bathroom sink, to wash away the dye of her few mintues of joy from her hair.
Tears stream down her face, as she stared at her computer screen, finding out only the metal object filled her time of her life.
No one wanted to be her friend.
I see her, I see her forced smile face within my old year book.
I stare in saddness, knowing that was me I stared upon.
My freshmen self.
Away the fat rolls did go, leaving me thin and slim.
smoother hair, with colors and dye, wth thinner brows in which to bring beauty.
Make-up, to cover my skin, tighter clothing, to have boys look upon me.
I have changed, from my freshmen year.
My fingers do trace, turning the page slowly.
No one wanted to be my friend then,
What will they think now?