It Hurts, I know. Trust Me Girl, I know.
Everyone has bagage, but His seems to titter around.
"The sixth year bagage." Somebody laughs then. And I smile because it's Polite.
From afar You would think They were all great Friends.
Not at All. It seems.
The Girls are all a bit sticky, and booby.
And She just Glares and watches. Bumping past, lips curling, eyes rolling.
Get a Grip. I want to Say, want to Scream infact. Tell Her to Get Away.
But I can't. I wouldn't.
I have more Class than that.
No comments:
Post a Comment