Them


I walk in
Get some funny stares
I strut in
I look at them and glare

I try to
Act like I'm with them
But I doubt that
I'll be 'accepted' again

But was I
Ever there at all?
Or was I sitting
All made up like a doll?

I know
That they hate my guts
But I act like
I don't give a fuck

I wak out
Give them the finger
Running
As if I might linger

So what
Maybe someone cares
I don't
And they can't keep me here


18 October 2004
Copyright 2004 Mallory Maloney