They described her as
Popular. But she wanted
To be her real self.

I used to think there were types of people I just couldn't be.

I can't wear makeup because that's what all the popular girls on Instagram do

I can't dye my hair freaky colours because then people will think I listen to rock music when I really like jazz

I can't wear a pink dress today because I wore all black yesterday and people will think I spent too much time organising my looks, which I did, but they can't know that!

But you know what?

There are no types of people.

There is no "popular" and "unpopular".

Because the girl you think is popular goes home to her house and you don't know what happens there.

You don't know her life is good.

Maybe they only brag about the expensive clothes they wear because they're scared and have nothing to say too.

Maybe they spent ages trying to find themselves but got torn down by everyone around them too.

Maybe they hate being friends with the friends they have but don't have the confidence you have to make it alone or find people they actually like, because they will be judged and it's just hard.

But they're just people.

When you talk to them you might see that everything is a social construct.

Literally everything.

Popularity, expectations, grades, groups.

So break the rules. Wear what you like, do the makeup you want, talk to the people you want to talk to.

Does it really matter what people might think, if we will never truly know anyways?

They are afraid of the truth,
honest words forced to hide behind their roots,
Then crush it with the giant's big foot.

  - why are you so afraid of telling everyone about what you've done?

We all want our poems to trend and get views.
But when that is your focus, you're the one who will lose.

Striving for popularity can cause you to lose clarity.
Pulling you down a hole of insularity.

Instead, look ahead!
There are new horizons to be tread!
New poems to bloom happily in your garden bed,
no matter whether they are noticed...or even read!

Today I realized something
My friend and I
Are both eye catching
In our own quirky, unique ways
But
While she is a proud peacock, standing proud and tall
I am the butterfly
That flutters away unnoticed
Fleeing at the first sign of attention