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Yesterday she didn't feel very human
Today she felt very dead
Tomorow- by tomorow, she'll be gone

Can you remember the little girl
With the soft brown hair and soft honey eyes
who sat all alone at a red table in the green
green grass with nymphs cavorting around her?
She made you feel less scared and alone
less like you were the only bug in the face of normality.
You hated her with a burning passion,
such words so over done- but you did, and no lie
You despised her.
Her with that paper crown upon her head.
Jealousy of such a fase halo
Slowly the hate turned to friendship-
such a strange way to go down such a winding road;
and now...
Now....
now you both could stamp out
the world in your childish anger.

Yesterday she felt dead
Today she was almost gone
By tomorow you'll have forgotten her.
And all for a childish revenge against a slight
so slight it was but a soft tap on the head.

((yay for crappy poems yayyyy))