Typecast - Poem by Ray Mesa
Sweet scent of a new classroom opened
And the footsteps of new girls on the other side of a door that is closed
You walked on my foot and turned a blush of red
I bent down to heal my foot and hit you in the head
And the day went on....
We had 2rd hour together, You even rememberd my name
Those lectures felt like forever and all sounded the same
I leaned in to tell you a tiny little seceret
That I had a pain and it wasn't one in my feet
I was alone in a classroom with 30 kids
I am a child of intreast and now that I am done with that other bitch
I need a girl to call me, And let's hope the Noc in your last name doesn't really spell Con
And the hours go on...
I met you in the lunch room to talk about love
Floating around the ceiling never feeling more above
Your hand reaches across the table for a napkin
And my emotions grew mild and beckond
Here is the girl for you
This girl will love you
And as school ended, That damn little hand on the clock bended
I took you by the hand, and said I wanted you to be mine
I am thee man for someone like you. I am just your kind
'Sorry you ain't my type'
and the credits roll
'I date..well differnt guys'
And i fall into a hole
So here is my three god damn cents
You are nothing more then a jezabell
And you finelly come to sense
Your reliaze life without me is hell
Don't typecast me, I ain't like the rest
I am stable and free, The number one fucking best
And when you sleep tonight in a bed of lies
Hang your stupid head and cry
Just know baby....
You could of been mine
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