The Lonely Girl

by ~zimDAR (My deviantART account)

As the girl walks down the street
she sees people passing by looking at her,
They don't know, they have no idea what she's going through,
She spits on the ground in disgust, they stare at her
eyes like poison darts,
"Go away!" she screams at them.
The girl soon realizes it just brings more poison darts towards her,
Helpless, she drops to the ground,
"I'm going crazy!" She shouts,
"I'm going crazy." She says once again, but this time in a whisper,
"It's not fair. It's not fair."
As the days go by less and less people are looking,
trying to avoid her horrid stare,
For now her eyes are like poison darts, burning into the souls of those who see,
And her beauty is lost forever; her twisted mind has taken over,
Loneliness is what did it, the sheer agony of wanting something you think you need,

Love.

The girl sat there for days on end,
waiting for that one single person,
The person to make her life all right, to make all the suffering just… Disappear,
But no such person came,
No one would want to love a crazy person,
everyone thinks she's mad,
But oh if they knew, that the best feeling in the world was also the worst,
The feeling that made this poor young girl go completely mad,
Oh but if they knew,
The feeling is worth more than all the gold in the world,
all the presents on your birthday, all the fish in the sea,
It's worth more than life its self,
But it's hard to get,
too hard to obtain,
all those fishes in the ocean and only one is for you,
Perhaps the girl knew this only too well,
That her chances of being happy and finding this feeling was slim,
Sure she had crushes but was it ever enough?
The horrid feeling that they'd never love you back,
that all the time you waist liking them was for nothing,
She stumbled up to an old policeman on patrol;
she looked at the gun in his pocket,
Is this the answer? She asked herself,
The girl reached for the gun but was pushed backwards,
onto the ground,
She closed her eyes tightly; she could feel the old policeman's presence over her,
"Just kill me now, please." She pleaded.

I am too, I must confess, afraid of this feeling ever taking hold of me,
I'm afraid of becoming that girl,
sick of wishing for love and knowing that it'll never come to you,
We all wish for that one person,
who will love you for all that you are,
keep you warm at night and call you beautiful when you are feeling sad,
But even when we love someone we never tell them,
The girl always waits for the guy to speak,
afraid that if she did herself then she would be rejected,
Forever filled with shame of saying what she felt.