The tears kept rolling down her face and pooling at her feet. Everyone
seemed to assume that since she had so many friends, there was nothing for
her to worry about. There was never anything to worry about. Everyone
seemed to assume that she had the perfect life.
Why is it even relevant that she shouldn't have anything to cry about if she's popular? It's not like that matters. Sure she's popular, and gets good grades, but you have to wonder how people would treat her so nicely if she weren't any of those things, if she were just herself.
She takes a deep breath, and tries to calm herself down. As the tears stop falling, she takes a moment and glances around the common room. No one had tried to comfort her.
They were only friends with her for her status.
A tear rolls down her face
And no one cares Not one person She has no friends None that care They're after her status And her help So the tears keep rolling down her face Hoping for that one true friend Who will understand Listen
And be there for her
She glanced down at the piece of parchment in front of her. It was all too true. She begins to wonder what would happen if she were to post this around the school, but not sign it. As she realizes that idea, she thinks to herself 'I'll do it.'
The next morning during muggle studies, she went up to the teacher and asked to use the muggle photocopier to copy her poem - neglecting to mention it was her poem. After making a couple dozen copies she slips them all into her book-bag to wait until that night.
Night falls to see her crying again, with no one comforting her. Noticing this, she glances around the room, then pulls out her poem, to read it to herself again. How true.
At about midnight, she slips out of the room with the copies of her poem and begins to tack them up around the school. She is caught, nor seen, by no one. Then she heads back to bed to wait for the reactions of those around her.
The next morning at breakfast, exclamations are heard all around her. At every table, remarks are heard saying that the poem was awesome. She ignores them all, as once again the tears start to fall. They head read the poem and not the meaning. At heart, she was alone.
Why is it even relevant that she shouldn't have anything to cry about if she's popular? It's not like that matters. Sure she's popular, and gets good grades, but you have to wonder how people would treat her so nicely if she weren't any of those things, if she were just herself.
She takes a deep breath, and tries to calm herself down. As the tears stop falling, she takes a moment and glances around the common room. No one had tried to comfort her.
They were only friends with her for her status.
A tear rolls down her face
And no one cares Not one person She has no friends None that care They're after her status And her help So the tears keep rolling down her face Hoping for that one true friend Who will understand Listen
And be there for her
She glanced down at the piece of parchment in front of her. It was all too true. She begins to wonder what would happen if she were to post this around the school, but not sign it. As she realizes that idea, she thinks to herself 'I'll do it.'
The next morning during muggle studies, she went up to the teacher and asked to use the muggle photocopier to copy her poem - neglecting to mention it was her poem. After making a couple dozen copies she slips them all into her book-bag to wait until that night.
Night falls to see her crying again, with no one comforting her. Noticing this, she glances around the room, then pulls out her poem, to read it to herself again. How true.
At about midnight, she slips out of the room with the copies of her poem and begins to tack them up around the school. She is caught, nor seen, by no one. Then she heads back to bed to wait for the reactions of those around her.
The next morning at breakfast, exclamations are heard all around her. At every table, remarks are heard saying that the poem was awesome. She ignores them all, as once again the tears start to fall. They head read the poem and not the meaning. At heart, she was alone.