Notebook

in my tiny book, in space all my own, view my hoome grown, on life and the world; outlook. how i percieve, everything to be, the portion of the world i see; everything i believe. find my innner soul, read all my plans, how someday i'll have more fans; my life's goal. turn to page 28, feeling low, leftout; no place to go feel my sudden hate. watch as everything changes, plans gone bad, losing faith in all i had, my mind deranges. over time, plotting mind games, giving up good fame; my heart gone sour like the juice of a lime. no-one knew, just my book, my silent outlook; plans for just what i had to do. now you read this, i'm now underground, notebook left to be found; having never felt true love's first kiss. only seventeen, gone and lsot forever, coming back; no, never can you believe, that i was prom queen? xoxo. Kyelle for everyone who thinks that popular poeple have teh perfect life, never hate, never are sad or depressed, worried or stressed. everyone has problems, just the same.