Thirteen

there are four
plus one more
sauntering past me
on the second floor.
number five
is trying to strive
one of them to be
losing her live.
she titters and giggles
in her miniskirt wiggles
the truth she does not see
her old friends send her signals.
they've gone past me now
i'll never understand how
lucky i am to be free
nmot another blonde cow.
but that girl is thirteen
her truths unseen
she is yet to pay her fee
caught inbetween.
leaning against the window glass
silently daring to ask
looking down at the poeple below me
to the rest of those in her class.
a sea of blonde hair
i sigh in dispair
why can't it be
just a little bit more not quite not unfair.
impressionable grade eights
meeting their fates
why can't they see
passing through the social spectrum is passing Hell's gates?