Little Miss Good Girl

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I'm the girl who can't get in trouble,
the one who teachers talk to on the level,
as a friend, knowing I'll listen.
They know I'm not the girl to cheat
or steal or even yell in their class.
Their trust is always firmly in my grasp.
My classmates never seem to mind.
Where some girls may have heard
the ever-clever "teacher's pet,"
my school chums refer to me as too nice,
therefore for them to ever mistreat me,
they simply couldn't live with themselves.
People say they've never heard my voice,
act surprised when I finally talk.
I've gone days just saying one or two words
and after a few days my throat is sore
for the disuse and pure misuse.
If only they saw what was going on
in this twisted mind of mind.
I love to hear that I'm such a good girl.
If only they knew just how wrong.
A curse leaves my lips and it's a scandal,
but I can only smile at their ignorance.
There's so much worse going on in this head
than a simple expression of frustration.
If only they knew my wants and desires,
my clawing needs, they'd never again dare
to call me the good girl.

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