The Bad Pretty Girl
I am the pretty one,
the one the girls hate
and the boys pant for
and I stand aloof because
there is no room for me to be
who I am.
All I get is people reacting
to how I look
and I see them whisper
'She's so stuck up.'
I am not.
I am lonely and superior to them
that make these kinds of comments.
So all day I have to take the stares
and the mini-hatreds
just because I am pretty.
I like being pretty
it comes easy to me;
takes no effort.
My hair is beautiful and I don't have to do anything to it.
My skin is good. Thank God, no zits
My figure is good
but I get the comments when I walk through-
the Neanderthals always make comments-
and I cannot help it if my parents are rich.
So I am trapped behind this wall.
I don't have to study hard to get good grades;
this school is easy.
I don't have to work hard for anything.
Things just come to me.
But it has made a prison for me
and because I don't have to get smart
or work hard-
I can get by on my looks.
My teachers like me-
one too much,
so in the end I am doing what I hate
others do-
seeing me only in terms of how I look
and I realize I am doing the same thing to myself.
I am my looks. I am trapped.
So when boys try to talk to me I clam up
because I think there is only one thing they want.
And most of the time I am right. They do-just want
one thing.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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