At school, I've always been the strange one,
Long skirts and frizzy hair.
I'd spend ages trying to de-frizz it,
But I never really care.
I get angry very frequently,
I get sad and tearful too.
But no-one understands me.
They don't know what to do.
So I sit alone in tutor,
Writing poems,
Stories galore.
I really want to do well but,
School can be such a bore.
When I put my I-pod in,
I can block out the world around me.
I look around I see people talking,
But I hear nothing;
I'm free.
I love the little birds that pitter patter their way around the bushes and the trees.
They always ask for food,
But they never say "please".
The crowds are what I hate the most,
Bustling like a herd of cows.
I get so scared I'm going to get crushed,
I hear every conversation, all of the rows.
It' so strange,
Deep inside, I still feel like the year nine full of blissful ignorance about the world around me.
But I know that I have changed.
Everyone has changed.
My friends have gone to college,
My old teachers no longer care.
I'm losing who I am now,
And it really seems unfair!
The works so hard,
I have so much to do.
I get so stressed,
And now my poetry's suffering too.
I loose myself on u-tube,
Singing the night away.
It puts things in perspective.
Giving me something to say.
When the music's on,
I don't care who hears me.
But then....
It's silence.
It feels like everyone is looking at me,
Laughing at me.
No-one is there.
I hate facebook,
But I check it all the time.
I sometimes put a status up,
Full of words that rhym.
If no-one likes it I get really upset.
I feel like no one cares,
But what good is the internet on handling social affairs?
I read, and read.
I really cant ... stop.
One day I really think my mind will go "pop!"
Novels, fiction, action the lot.
It gives me an escape,
But I'm losing the plot.
I write my own books full of horror and despair,
As a 17 year old girl, I really am quite rare.
I write songs,
Trying to express how I feel.
But now I'm losing sense of what is and isn't real.
I'll get paranoid,
Assume things in my head.
These thoughts really boil up and I'm lying in my bed.
My family's gone.
Either dead,
Or couldn't care less.
I'm so glad I've got a good mum.
She helps to give me a rest.
Always working so hard,
Just to stay afloat.
She has a dream that one day.
She'll live on a real boat.
Lila our dog,
Is my baby sister.
Always there to hold my hand.
But sometimes she makes those embarrassing moments that I really can't stand.
I hate the sound of cutlery,
Scraping against my plate.
I hate still being in my normal clothes,
When it's a little too late.
I hate how when I want to work hard,
I tend to procrastinate.
I hate solicitors,
And how they practically threw all of my nans things away.
I hate how they just want their money,
Even though they are rich anyway.
It annoys me how our lives are governed by advertisements,
Telling us lies of unreal worlds and happy times.
Hasn't that alcohol only caused you stupidity and unexpected fines?
I hate how we have become American?
What the hell's up with that?
It's mainly up to our prime Minister,
That stupid, idiotic prat!
I wish I could learn to be 17.
Young, and dancing the night away.
With some guy who apparently loves me.
But I'm too intelligent to believe that anyway.
It's so unfair.
Why does life always have to be such a battle?
I'm so bored of looking at screens,
Computers, mobiles, ipods, t.v's.
We managed perfectly well with-out them.
But there is one thing that I love...
The fact that I can be proud of who I am.
That I work hard.
That I'm honest and true to myself.
That I have an AMAZING mum.
That I have the best friends in the world.
That no matter what happens.
No matter who says what.
I never stop trying whatever it is I want to achieve.
And this...
This is what will lead me to happiness.
By Madi Rowley
