I see him glare everyday.
I wish her glaring at me.
But sadly as the truth may be,
He doesn't even know I'm me.

He looks straight through me to the popular girl,
The popular girl that's prettier than me.
All he sees is her,
He doesn't even notice me.

He stares at her day after day.
Just waiting to catch her eye to say "Hey!"
And she doesn't even cut her eyes this way.
I just look straight forward in dismay.

He might glance at me occasionally,
And then tilt his head to the side.
But the fact I know he's not looking at me,
Makes me want to hide.

I know he'll notice me one day,
More than just the girl that sits to the right.
But if he doesn't notice me soon,
I might have to shed some light.

But when I did decide to speak,
He looked at me like I was crazy.
I wanted to disappear in the nightmare.
And wake up to only remember it vaguely.

In the bathroom, I screamed, cried, ranted, and raged.
Because I was such an outcast.
But it took me that long to realize.
To him, I was nothing but glass...

LaLa Curse
1/23/04