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How is it?
How is it
that working, then partying
Can leave me
a bigger mass of aches
than a week of marching band?
How is it
that I was born and raised
Catholic
Yet I don't
understand or enjoy it?
How is it
that I can supposedly be
a poet
When I don't even
like poetry?
How is it
that someone constantly
tells me I'm pretty
But when I look in a mirror
I just don't see it?
How is it
that I can have
such a happy family
When most of my friends
don't?
How is it
that the kids
who are some of my closest friends
Are the only ones
that live too far away to visit?
How is it
that my best friend
the girl who has everything
Can't seem to just
be happy with herself?
How is it
that there are kids
whose friend I wish I could be
And I don't have the courage
to go ask to be included?
How is it
that the one guy
who says he cares for me
Is the one whose words
bring me to tears?
How is it
that those words
that make me cry
Would make any other girl
jump for joy?
How is it
that people praise me
for the things I do
But I never feel like
I deserve it?
How is it
that the guy I would love
to hold and be held in return by
Can be so content
with just being friends?
