Beneath the bends of Barrymore
On the southwest winds she chants some more
The clouds scoot by beneath the moon
Some say she's crazy like the loon
Dressed in black she cackles back
Tossing ashes from a sack
She throws her body down
And moans and sobs into the ground
A dagger she does draw it forth
Holding it up for all its worth
She shrieks and damns her birth
And plunges it deep into her heart . . .
So ends the life of the despised young **** . . .

Now the owls come silently in
Alighting next to still warm skin
All walk around the disposed young beast
Only uttering "Who" to say the least
Then the great owl comes fluttering in
He'd be a giant if he were made of men
He collectively surveys the scene
Takes a few steps before he says a thing
"Take her body to Evermoor"
The great one orders and implores
And all the owls take to wing
Holding the remains of the breathless thing
And take her earthly shell away
And as drops of blood fell from the flow
to the earth a white rose would grow
Leaving a trail
To the land as some will say
To the sacred woods of Evermoor
Yes sacredness in evermore

I come here to be happy,
To find my place
And teach myself how to be
A true writer.

To me it seems
I try.
I try to speak,
Show myself,
Do what I am supposed to do here.
I am told to be myself,
There is no blending in.
And yet, it seems I have to.

No one cares. I cry
And they stare and walk past.
I had more support and reassurance
In the place where I was bullied and tormented
Daily.

And here,
Daily,
I am alone.
Cliques formed and I was, once again,
And outcast.

there are people like you there.
the ones who yell "what the hell"
when there band plays on the
radio because they don't want to
share it with the world.

the ones who don't talk during
class because they simply just
want to be out free not making
up some stupid drama.

the ones who wear what they
want not giving a **** about
how people will look at them in
the hall.

the ones who are the outsiders.
the ones who are
just like you.
h.d.

She tried everything
just to be loved.
Sadness and despair
kept in her heart.
In her melancholies
that no one knows.
They don't even care at all.
See things through that smile
Someone save her
even just for once.

An intricate pattern,
Makes something feel soo valued,
Makes it soo unique,
Different.
So look at your reflection,
Your "flaws",
And look at how intricate the pattern is.
How unique it is.
How different it is.
Learn to love the way it is.

The people who see
me for me
don't like it and would rather i be
Someone who is not me
and that i'd prefer to be.