Not Poem by Maura Herboldsheimer

Not

I'm not the girl who's face
Is fit for the T.V. screens.
Rather I sit on receiving ends
And wish that it were me.
I'm not the type to surf the crowds
Looking for new flames.
I rather swing beneath the trees
And read about them instead.
I'm not the girl with the confident stride
I'd rather watch my feet.
My neck grows tired when titled back
I'm sorry,
That's just not me.
I'm not the type to integrate
Myself into your clique.
I just can't lie,
Or cannot tell,
That's for someone else,
Not me.
I'm not the one you'd pegged me for
With my heart on my sleeve.
I hide behind these bitter smiles
With my eyes full of dreams.
I'm not the girl with eloquence.
I speak my mind freely.
I babble on along with these smirks.
I'm sorry, grace
Does not become me.
I am the type wanting whimsical scenes
Of romance in my life.
I turn away,
Shy and abashed.
I'm sorry,
Self -assurance is not for me.
I am the one who looks in secret
A quirky smile to see
It's all a lie
When I present a smile
Because I'm not the girl
You want me to be.