I don't care if you
Throw sticks
Or stones
Or grenades.
You won't hurt me,
I'll pick myself up.

I don't care if you
Call me stupid
Or ugly
Or a failure, a disappointment.  
You won't hurt me,
I'll shut it all out.

I don't care if you
**** a frog
Or rob the bank
Or starve for days.
I won't bat an eyelid,
That's what others' did to me.

I have been made
Cruel and heartless
By this warped, greedy world.

If it won't affect me,
I won't care.

Her sadness
Was not beautiful,
Neither was it poetic.

Rather
It was a kind of desperation
Hopelessness,
That would scare others away.

And that's why she hid it behind a weak smile.
That's why she'd never tell.

I'm not a masterpiece churner.

You can't expect me
To sketch out
Expressive eyeball
After expressive eyeball.

You can't expect me
To finish colouring
My drawing
In an hour-long art lesson.

You can't expect me
To come up
With in idea
In five minutes.

I take my time.

But as they say,
Good things come
To those who wait.

I'm afraid to stand out
And be different.
What if I look odd?
What if I'm judged?

I'm afraid of using big words,
Even though they sound beautiful.
What if I use it wrongly?
I'll be thought of as a fool.

Most of all,
I'm afraid
Of telling you
That I love you
Everyday.

It's meant to be a cute,
Sweet gesture.
A way of
Reminding you
You're the best thing
In my life.

But what if
It slowly becomes a mere routine for me?

Worse still,
What if
One day
Your reply is,
"I don't, anymore."?

Maybe one day,
Sometime soon,
I'll be brave enough
To send it to you.
For now,
I'll leave it unsent.

She tried to fit in.

But she did it too well and ended up blending in with the black and white background, unnoticed amongst the vibrant, colourful individuals in the crowd.

So maybe she didn't do that good a job of fitting in.

You scream.

You yell.

You pretend to disappear,
In the hopes someone will notice.

Starving, craving for attention.

No one cares.

But then,

All they have to do is whisper,

And all heads turn.