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.