Twisted in the way her pride
Brings her down because she can feel
Them glaring, those envious eyes

At a paper she wishes weren’t real
At a feat she should not be ashamed of
At a number so many are wishing to steal

Melancholy in the way she crumples and shoves
Her A+ in the trash on the way out the door;
If she keeps it, she’s sticking up her nose

Because pride is a sin and nothing more;
Hard Work is the devil’s ally,
And Guilt builds his home in her core.

She was given a gift, and now she cries
She was deemed a monster, so now she’ll lie.

Pain in the way the multitude of red marks
On her paper resemble streaks of blood
From the wounds to her fragile heart

A wave of nausea; no wait, a flood
Of everything she’s felt thus far;
Cruelty has crushed a blooming bud.

Tear-stained wishes on a shooting star
To rip away her intelligence;
She’d rather have an ugly scar

She never befriended Arrogance
But somehow her life went awry;
All she wanted was another chance.

She hides her gift, but she still cries
Because she was forced to live a lie.