Last picked.
Last sought.
Last seen.
First fought.
First blamed.
First claimed lame.
Why must it always be the same? …
Out of tune and out of place; I am green grass midwinter chill.
No matter where I stand that's me.
Most idiotic.
Least popular.
Most dorky.
Least talented.
No matter where I stand I never seem to belong.
I long for a world of chances
I long for a world, I long for another.
What else did you expect me to say?
Just tired of hearing the shatters of my heart and soul upon the floor.
A bag drifting through, through, the wind; this is me no matter where I stand.
I am not you, nor the person you see.
I am the girl drowning in words, thoughts, and confusion.
Halls that seem bright to most appear to me dark and endless.
Each step forward feels like I am sinking, but stationary feels like failure.
Where must I stand?
A 12 year old writing this. Excellent. Pain felt. I hope your journey is now much smoother and that you are being just who you want to be..... Be Proud Stand Tall.... Thank You Breanna
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I long for a world of chances and feel the wonder. Nicely presented personal views in this poem on bullying.