Senior Poetry Project

So we were cleaning out the garage and I found my Senior year Poetry Project. And I found this little gem that I wrote my senior year.

The Mold

What is wrong with me?
What is wrong with you?
I think I may know, I'll give you a clue,
It is most likely, the mold by which we
judge so frequently.

I am not beautiful,
You can't play ball.
I am not an angel,
You're not very tall.

We are obviously not the same,
Yet we are judged on one scale.
Popularity has become a game,
A game at which no one can prevail.

What is wrong with me?
What is wrong with you?
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
What is wrong with society?

Made me think a bit! :)

There is beauty all around . . .

Taken by a pro! :)

LIVE.LOVE.LAUGH.