I feel so suffocated
Hair curled
Sparkly clothes
Tight jeans
With rips at the knees
My nails shaped and polished
This isn't me
I clutch my bag
In my hands
It feels like everyone is watching me
Looking for a chance to laugh
To reject me from their cliques
The towering building
Paint peeling
Dark windows glaring down
At the small girl
From out of town
I'm definetley not home
Girls run and squeal
Finding their friends
From last year
I'm so out of place
A strange girl
With a lost face
I walk through the halls
Aimlessly
Trying to find someone
Not quite as lost as me
I feel a tap on my shoulder
And I spin around
A small girl
Her eyes darting to the ground
"Excuse me"
She whispered timidly
"Do you know where room 113 is?"
I laugh bringing a smile
"I'm looking for the same place"
So we walk off
Now with purpose
Two small, unbelonging teens
Searching for room
113
YOU ARE READING
Staged
PoetryThis is my first try at a poem book, a poem book with a story. Rosalie Carter writes her life through words, this is her journal. Follow her through a tale of love, hate, confusion, and finding where you belong. Finding out what is real, and what, ...
