I Hate This Girl, Part 1
2004-03-03 @ 9:46 p.m.
I hate this girl, horridly
struck by near-sight, too
spent on near-focus,
the big picture's too much.
Attire tired in black formality,
a monotone, monochrome, bland uniform,
oozing tasteless uninterest.
Squinting hard to grasp focus,
'cause her prescription doesn't suit her.
Scratched lenses obscure her view,
that skewed-vision of nothing.
Some valium might do her good,
before she OD's on her OCD,
her obsessive compulsive disease,
'cause it's too much to be disorder.
She sits and stares and watches nothing
respecting only her contempt for comtemporary
ideas and ways of thinking.
Too closed in her own array of thought.
Too immune to change.
Too insane to do anything about it.
Strange, how some people pass the time.
She looks up and down, side to side,
creating warped interpretations of human behavior.
No one wants her, I'm sure.
She deserves no one's want,
wanting nothing more
than to have us wanting her.
She wants us to be her.
She needs to unlock her head.
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)