So I'm sitting in this library, right? And next to me are these two girls wearing medium amounts of make-up. One has bright, unnaturally red hair. The other has beautiful blue hair. I'm sat there pretending to concentrate on my work, and thinking, 'Is this the trend now?!'
Seriously. I'm sorry to judge, but it looks like the Hunger Games was more prophetic. Think about it-
Corrupt Government: Check.
Wild Hair: Check.
Idolization of complete idiocy: quadruple check.
Make up: Check.
All we're missing is the death game. And now I think I'm scared.
Song (c) me.
OK, why all the hate? I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to make people angry, but it's ridiculous to get so angry over what is basically nothing more than hair. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the most polite person in the world, but that's no good reason to call me a 'diaperbaby'. And besides, all babies wear diapers. I'm not calling the girls I saw in the library 'whores'. Of course not! Truth be told, I was kind of jealous of the blue hair... So yeah, go ahead and call me a 'hypocritical diaperbaby' if you like. I wrote this poem about a PERSONAL EXPERIENCE, not to dump all over your hair-values. Sorry, that sounded rude. But I think I'm trying to make a point that one poem, one description, it doesn't make me who I am. It doesn't make me narrow minded. I just want people to know that the way they look UNDERNEATH the make-up is more important. It's when the blue hair becomes less-than-unique that this 'hunger games prophecy' comes true. I don't want hate, but I'm not going to hide behind words I don't believe in. I'm sorry that you've all been so hideously offended. Really, truly, sorry.