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Expectations, Realisations
They tell me that I can pass these tests
They tell me I could be one of the best
But they don't care about what I wish
And I can tell you now I don't want this
They don't seem to want to know
That they are the reasons I feel low
Or that the reason I don't feel alive
Is because there's no breathe left to survive
I sit here and twiddle my thumbs in distress
Bored out of my mind, I really must protest
Not yet a recluse but so bored of everyone
Need a purpose not another pathetic con
And when they try to tell me one more time
That I will be able to do anything, will be fine
Then maybe they should take a look at my arms
Because this boredom is a cause of alarm
At home I play the typical girl, fragile and weak
At school they see me as a classified freak
Neither can see more than I allow them to know
Because these mutilations I will not allowed to show
poem
by
Rebecca Pepper
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