Written: Wednesday, March 26, 2008
She was fourteen
Innocent, naïve, unintelligent.
Unaware of the cruelty
The world could present.
She was insulted
Sweet smiles with mockery laced.
They ran when they saw her
Laughing at her wet face.
She did things she did not want to
Did things she did not believe in
She lied and fibbed.
Even if sympathy was all she could get,
She would take it.
Soon, yet not soon enough
They found a legitimate reason to hate her
The truth was unveiled.
They never missed a chance to disgrace and humiliate her
It was a lonely, tough path
In the aftermath of it all.
She went through the days, months
Repenting her fall
You could see her then…
Damp pillows, a broken heart
Shamed downcast eyes.
She could not face anyone else
Because she saw the taunt in their eyes
“That is the girl,
The pathetic one
The liar
The imprudent one”
It was a long year
But she finally made it through
They say time is a healer,
Well, that may be partially true.
She was stronger now,
The pain was faint
She did not need anyone now
She stood strong alone.
Years have passed
You still see her.
She exudes independence now
And you want her near
She would greet you with a smile
And never let you in
For the scars are still there
She feels them deep within.
They call her a cynic
She sees herself as wise
For she can see the shallowness
The usual fall after the rise
At times, she loathes the person she is now
But shrugs it all off as penance
It’s the price she will have to pay
The price of desiring acceptance.

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