It all begins on a yellow limousine,

Driving down cracked and crooked roads where strays creep,

The first morning you'll look your best,

Put on the biggest attitude to match the 'L' on your chest, 

Assume the position and wait to act out,

No doubt trying to fit in with an unfamiliar crowd,

For me 9th grade year is when the serene left my soul,

And introduced to me what was the loss of control,

To be manipulated was a slow tormenting phase, it slowly took pieces of me everyday,

And the so called friends I let do that were never once ashamed, 

And the brain I harnessed all 'B's' with lacked the intelligence I so craved,

I needed to learn why a friend would leave me for a boy's attention,

Or walk away as I screamed her name, push me into a locker and speculate things,

She was never dismayed by my un-supermodel size, maybe that was the reason i believed her lies,

That year i got mixed with the wrong crowd, like a bad ingredient a chef used,

I promised next year my life wouldn't have the same blues,

Sophmore year comes and i'm filled with repletion, so I don't look their way,

Maybe say "Hi and Bye" so they think were okay, but as she raises an angry fist I realize,

Is this who I called friend?

Kicked out of my old group, I walk aimlessly outside, feeling the need to socialize,

Slipping into a depression, I feel this obligation to tell someone of my bitter tale, maybe this time,

A girl my size, someone the boys wouldn't look at as we passed by.

Just the stroke of luck too, that day I skipped class and meet a new friend who was funny, loud, and cool too

Yeah, I knew it was too good to be true,

She flirted and plotted making me realize, I wanted no place in romances charades,

When we were alone she'd call me judgmental for telling her to hold her virginity for God's sake,

"Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe"-Kendrick Lamar phrase, said the party queen, little did she know she'd get pregnant at the age of 16,

Now she can't hang no more, and I'm gaining more weight,

That's when I'm glad the year ends and I can just read for fun, and not be made fun of because that stuffs dumb

One day I picked up a book about being yourself, but what did the author know right?

So foolish of me, to not think adults hadn't been through the same strife during there young life,

In the middle of the next year,

I reread the samething, even meet a teacher who told me what it means and how to write about me,

At that point i left another failed friendship, and slipped into something called reality,

Where a person's status doesn't matter; cool, uncool, ugly or pretty, it didn't matter anymore,

I just craved someone who would listen to my dumb truth's,

But I turned into the friend with a big ear, and advising words to a smart kid who struggled with school too,

That blessing led to me finally meeting my close friends,

We shared with each other, and they said I was cool, but I quickly said not to use that word in our group,

It causes dismay and agony to those who don't fit in such a category, but that's not the end

I had a crush senior year on this guy who should have remained a friend,

When the word's left my mouth i wish i could rewind, nor was i his type or his size,

My friends held me in the cafeteria as I cried, I realized people didn't see through my 20/17 eyes,

And the next one, and next one too, see I had standards to live up to,

So the guys I liked just had to be cool, Yet now here I was again being a fool, 

Then i went on and got ready to be done with silly, old high school

As I met more cool teachers I slowly began to see, that the C's and B's i made weren't good enough for me,

But it was senior year and just wanted to have fun, go to prom and maybe find true love,

College life I'll work on soon, that joke left me starting college in Spring, 

Falling behind while the other students went on, but I do see now what adults mean,

High School cut me deep, but not as deep as my friend with scars on her wrist, 

Or maybe the kid down the street who was killed, I was saved, Thank God, by parents who cared

Saved by teachers who noticed my brain was there, and the community service kids who noticed my good side,

Without that how can a teen like myself survive high school life,

After understanding first hand I cried for those teens that committed suicide, and even more for those who took that bullies life,

Now when I go to work, or charity events, I love to sit and talk with high school kids,

I tell them everytime that each battle helps build you,

So I guess I can give a thanks to High-School.

Authors Note: (Imperfection is eccentric, and people who accept their imperfections, are the stars that light up the night sky.)