Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2019
I have a distinct memory of crying in my room after a 5th-grade dance

Because the boy I liked didn't dance with me

I stared at my puffy water logged reflection in my streaked mirror and wondered why I couldn't have been born prettier

I never imagined over twenty years later I'd be doing the same thing

But instead, I ask, why wasn't I born smarter?
Written by
Cara
  179
   Colm and Scaevola Lisianthus
Please log in to view and add comments on poems