Who Cares

A poem I wrote for my English class

Everywhere I look, they’re there.

Lurking around every corner,

waiting to define your life.

Cheerleader,

nerd,

druggie,

goody-two-shoes,

whore;

categorizing those we barely know.

I navigated through crowded halls, an innocent freshman,

caring how I was labeled and perceived by fellow students.

Fretting over what was said about the new girl-

Me.

Now a senior,

I  trudge through restricting hallways,

watching freshmen show off, flirt, and essentially… care.

How things have changed in four, short yet long, high school years.

Who cares, I think, as I slip on sweats for the third day in a row; comfort wins.

Who cares, I think, as I drive my out-of-style car into the busy student lot.

Who cares, I think, that not everyone knows my name the ones who do, count.

Who cares, I think, the newest iPhone isn’t  in my back pocket hugging my butt.

Who cares, I think, that I’m not top of my class, someone has to take that below average seat;

without me, my peers wouldn’t be the the top of anything.

Our world,

Our town,

Our friends,

Our family.

Our schools-

all label.

It’s up to me to decide if I care, and guess what.

I don’t.

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