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Grace Pickard Mar 2014
There are lots of young kids
Lined up in rows
And told what to be
And to avoid the lows
But there's one who is different
Who doesn't conform
He can't seem to fit in
To what is the norm

Wearing shorts on his head
"You're a ******" they said
But he knew more
So he had to ignore
As he grew up
With no friends to say 'sup
He felt so alone
While the other kids played
He always stayed home
And dreamed of a change

Then one day next door
A neighbor moved in
He greeted hello
And she returned a grin

She didn't follow a single trend
And proved everyone can find a friend

— The End —