In reply to people she'd often blush,

Noone really spoke to her much,

She'd sit in a corner and hold her breath,

For things she wasn't ready for yet,

She wasn't ready yet,

A speech was a challenge, a smile was a task,

Her life lived in solitude, in a cold-stare class,

Alive on the inside and dead on the surface,

She'd die for the chance for someone to notice her,

Her life was different than what they all saw,

She just wish she could get away from it all,

Get away for good,

She wished she could rid herself of the vice,

She wish she could live a normal life.

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