I see through you like glass

There’s this girl in class called Jaye who is so horrible. She looks at you like you’re dirt just if you have a posh voice, or you’re shy or you don’t dress like a hooker or something. All of her friends flock around her like disciples but none of them really know her-they see her as the prett popular girl who knows loads of boys (I go to an all girls school). She nevr works for anything and treats you like a loser if you want to do well and do work in the lessons. She acts like she’s so pretty and amazing and cool and you can just tell that she gossips about you behind your back-she’s even horrible about her own friends and she’s just so stupid! I don’t like her and the way that she judges the sort of person you are based on how much money you have and how ‘cool’ you are in the class-never stopping to think that though we may be weird sometimes we have more of a life than her, because we don’t care if we don’t act our age. So anyway, I wrote this to get my frustration  out after she was particularly mean to this really nice girl in another class who doesn’t have any friends in her own class so hangs around with us-our form’s kind of adopted her.

I wish you wouldn’t judge me
For my clothes
And for my voice
And look at me
With your superior smirk
Because, of course
You’re so much better than me
With your cool status
And countless friends
All alike in how
They’ll never really know you
As the insecure girl
You really are
When any stranger
Impervious to your charms
And your good looks
Could see right through your facade
And strip you
Of your clever disguise
In a heartbeat.

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The Rain

Normally I don’t write poetry like this; I’m used to writing jokey limericks for my friends but I wanted to try something that was a bit more me. Where I live right now it’s hot and dry. The grass is brown and the sky is a boring blue that seems to stretch on for forever. I miss the autumn: where the grass was a vibrant green and the leaves were purple and orange and everything was so fresh and healthy. Even when the sky was grey it was sort of beautiful, with all of the different greys swirling together like a tornado. I like when the weather’s warm and sunny and stuff but I want weather with more life in it, so I wrote this. Living vicariously through my writing?

The rain is wet
Against my skin
Soaking my hair
Yet I can’t help
But love how free
It makes me feel
Across my face a grin
The smell of freshness
And something else
Too hard to describe
That makes me feel like
And laughing
Whilst spinning though the rain
Laughing my head off
No care in the world
The joy so clear on my face
Whilst everybody
Sits dripping
Miserable at their windows
Waiting for the sun
To come out
And wondering
How I can find
Such beauty
In a shower of rain
And murky skies
That seem to envelope the world
In grey.

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