Mean.

You there
With that self-righteous smirk
And a button-down shirt.
Yep - you
With an overstuffed ego
And hand-rolled cigarettes.
You were a champion.
A bucking heart of fear & passion
One that chose none to latch on -
It chose you.
You, there
With a side of cleanest white
And a back claimed by dusty grey.
Hear me, you
With ideas bigger than the flashy words you use
And say, with no understanding
You Are Mean.
Your mouth is unclean.
No matter who we 'have been', now
You're just so mean.

Reviews

[iamshadowine]

I could relate this poem to the "wanna be's" of schools! I have met so many people like them!
your poem was so good! incredible write!
keep writing :D

[Rebekah Smith]

Thank you!