I wonder how he can breathe
Between his insulting words.
After a while, they float over my head
Like passing birds.
Buts it's a shame.
Because he is a total waste of beauty
His smirking lips
Look soft to me
And even though they're cold
His stormy ocean eyes are like a world
On their own
His blond hair is like it's made of silk
But there's nothing underneath
And I think it's strange how that scar never faded
(Even though I put it there, in 3rd year)
And that boy could be so much more
If only he would try.
And it's a waste,
A waste of beauty.
-H.G.
(Authors Note)
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