The messages tell me sooner,
then my mind, it keeps on going low and lower.
Why must he look at me that way?
Doesn't he know it's rude to stare?
I'm nothing special, so why do they stare?
Did I do something?
The mountains are always high.
Laughing, I am so small to them.
They look down on me with disgust.
Rolling their eyes as I build my way up.
I stop to think every once in awhile.
I wish I wouldn't.
You wonder why I don't have many friends.
Why, I block everyone out.
The way to learn is not with our brains, but with our eyes, hands, and ears.
Just a girl who loves to write poetry!
She loves animals, learning, and of course poetry!