Depressed

They. They did it.

Golden wings,
Crystal clear dreams.
Bright blue eyes.
Beautiful long, blonde hair.

Laughing,
Giggling.
Something another one said.
That's all they heard.

Burned, worthless shards,
Wings.
That's what they saw.

Black, musty pool of stupid thoughts.
Hopes, dreams.
That's what they saw.

Blue turns to a weak green.
Stunning eyes.
That's what they saw.

Weak, brittle strands tugged out.
Pretty hair.
That's what they saw.

Tears threaten to cascade.
Oh, sweet laughter.
That's what they saw.

'Worthless trash'
Just something funny.
That's what they said.

Tears, stains.
Bathroom floor.
That's what they pushed her to.

Perfect. That's what she was.
Perfect. Yep, her.
That's what they saw.
___________

An// hey guys! So, notice this is really sad, and depressing. Also, weird aha. But, its probably because Im writing at 2:00 am... But this is about a popular girl who couldn't escape societies idea of perfect. The first stanza is what they saw. They pushed her to her last resort, suicide. But, i really like the pattern i made, hehe. Yes, this somewhat has to do with me.. I'm not popular but, I feel that way, forced to be perfect. If you have any questions about this, or of any of my other poems, just comment! ↓