Study Hall
she sits alone and reads
yellow flowers on her desk
what she is thinking
I dont dare to guess
I’ve seen her before
yet I dont know her name
absorbed in my world
only myself to blame
she sits alone and writes
with a bag on her desk
what’s inside?
I dont dare to ask
Is her hair dyed brown?
Is it natural? Who knows
the things people care about
I just dont I suppose
she sits alone and overweight
with a reddened face
do people laugh at her?
her insecurities they chase
If she smiled she’d be pretty
someone I’d like to know
it’s just such a pity
her smile she doesn’t show
then there is her
she’s not alone and she chats
with the people she calls friends
that she stabs in the back
her hair curled, make up on
not a worry in the world
yet, I cant help but wonder
why I feel bad for this girl
Yet here I sit, alone and I write
with a lonely pen and paper on my desk
Do they care what I think?
I know they’d never guess
I’m happy for the girl
who has nothing at all
for she knows the true value
of a walk through these halls
(2010)
