My "job" at school isn't important,
But its more important than most,
I do what others refuse too, who can't,
I don't take orders from the Host.
The Host makes girls spread rumours.
The Host makes girls fight.
The Host tries to make me do humour.
But the Host can't make me do anything,
Much to my delight!
I was meant to be a messenger,
The simplest of my type,
I still am with gears turning and stirring
But I was fitted with too much hype.
They can't really blame me for silly things,
Or when things go wrong,
The can try blame me for spreading my wings,
But this position just feels so wrong...
I was simply meant to be messenger,
But know I'm like a ghost,
I'll trundle down these hallways,
Always defying the Host...