((Well, to give a bit of background information this came from five minutes of writing and no revisions. It's about my dislike for people who are fake and blind (figuratively) and how I deal with myself when I cross one of them.))
An inconvenience.
That’s all they are. They don’t have control over you.
Do not let them kill your day.
Be logical.
I tell myself.
Disgust fills my throat
As I slip past yet another one of them.
The ones with their shorts so small
They’re almost nonexistent.
The ones with their make up on so thick
You never really see their face.
The ones with their jock boyfriends
Who make it their mission to make people miserable.
The ones who use people like me
To do the dirty work they won’t.
The ones with the fake smiles and cheer
Which they use to turn friends on friends.
I cringe as another glides past me
And she sticks her foot out
To trip me.
An inconvenience.
That’s all they are.
I tell myself.
You don’t have to sink to their level.
I tell myself as I rise.
Do not turn around and throw an insult
Do not throw a book,
A pencil,
Or a crumpled piece of paper.
You are better
I tell myself.
Don’t sink to their level.
You don’t make other people miserable
And you’re not starting now.
So I suck in my pride.
They’ll get it one day,
And it won’t be from me.
It’ll be from the days they lost
When they could’ve been doing something useful
Instead of building their precious social status.
