She always sits in front of me
Face full of zits
Frizzy tight curls
Tacky clothes
Thin as a pencil
You're so greasy
You're pizza
You're macaroni and cheese
Why are all the girls in this choir so hideous?
I get sick to my stomach
when I look at you
you are the smell of sickening sweet
an arts major
insecure
fishing for notes
following the leader
And worst of all
you're blocking my view of him
You negate the bliss I feel when I see his face
He's looking at me now
But you can't let him see me
I think he loves me
But you're blocking his view
Who else would he want in this section?
And then I glance behind me
Big ***** girl
Blond greasy hair
Bangles
Eighties chic
Blue eyes
Brown coat
Big ****
Red pouting lips
She's not ugly
But by logic she should be
And I realize I'm a fool
It's her
He can't stop looking at her
I'm getting annoyed
He can't control his head
Always turned to my corner of the room
What does she think of this?
But she's gone
I won't see her until tomorrow
Was he looking at someone else?
At me?
I ponder the mystery
Leaving choir and the pizza-faced girl
with a smirk on my face
Maybe I'm not an ugly choir girl
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
She always sits in front of me
Face full of zits
Frizzy tight curls
Tacky clothes
Thin as a pencil
You're so greasy
You're pizza
You're macaroni and cheese
Why are all the girls in this choir so hideous?
I get sick to my stomach
when I look at you
you are the smell of sickening sweet
an arts major
insecure
fishing for notes
following the leader
And worst of all
you're blocking my view of him
You negate the bliss I feel when I see his face
He's looking at me now
But you can't let him see me
I think he loves me
But you're blocking his view
Who else would he want in this section?
And then I glance behind me
Big ***** girl
Blond greasy hair
Bangles
Eighties chic
Blue eyes
Brown coat
Big ****
Red pouting lips
She's not ugly
But by logic she should be
And I realize I'm a fool
It's her
He can't stop looking at her
I'm getting annoyed
He can't control his head
Always turned to my corner of the room
What does she think of this?
But she's gone
I won't see her until tomorrow
Was he looking at someone else?
At me?
I ponder the mystery
Leaving choir and the pizza-faced girl
with a smirk on my face
Maybe I'm not an ugly choir girl
The psychological dance that goes on during a boring choir practice (or even, God forbid, an interesting one)...