I feel the eyes on me.
The pressure of the lies,
The pressure of the 'normal girls',
The pressure of the pretty ones.
I don't fit in.
Not with the pretty girls,
Not with the preppy ones.
Not with the fakes,
Nor the ones everyone hates.
I don't belong with any of them.
But if not with them, then whom?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem