The Outcasts

I.

Known to most as the Creepy Blogger,

this teenage boy is your typical spotlight hogger.

With small beady eyes and a nose like a beak,

He’s your first source of gossip each and every week.

His penchant for stalking the popular crowd

Earns him nothing but torment, nice and loud.

Red ginger curls lie atop his head in a ‘fro,

He’s clammy and sweaty and dislikes the word “no.”

Though his one true love is repulsed by his advances,

He follows her everywhere, taking his chances.

A member of the Chess Club, he is not,

But his social status resembles the lot.

He travels to the room where his Queen does await,

Grossly believing she in fact is his Fate.

II.

The Stunning Young Ingénue is her name,

One day she will live a life full of fame.

Her voice is angelic, her range surreal,

Very little known is her physical appeal.

Opinionated and arrogant, though these titles she resents,

She calls herself “honest,” and no one assents.

A pretty girl, she likes to think herself,

Though her nose belongs in a comic strip, and she can barely reach the top shelf.

Of plaid skirts and knee-highs, her wardrobe consists,

A collection of animal print sweaters are too thrown in the mix.

A big heart has she, though her mouth is even bigger,

She chases her dreams with passion and vigor.

Lonely is she, though she holds her head high,

These fools cannot break her – oh, let them try!

III.

He’s awkward and clumsy and innocently sweet,

This Quarterback may be the stupidest boy you will ever meet.

Six-foot three and more up his sleeve,

This childlike oaf redefines the word “naïve.”

With dimples that make you go weak in the knees,

This boy can sing in all the right keys.

His crooked grin turns your bones into jell-o,

He’s simple and kind and really quite mellow.

Admirers has he, boys and girls the same,

But he is oblivious to all; he really has no game.

Elated he feels, when he sings a new song,

How could something so great, really be so wrong?

Though his grades are poor and his dancing makes you shutter,

This hunk of a boy sure can make your eyes flutter.

IV.

Slushie in hand and smirk on his face,

McKinley’s Quintessential Bad Boy owns this place.

He could get your girl with the bat of an eye,

If needed, he can be as sweet as pie.

He’s the best wide receiver, he knows it though,

He’d never admit it, but he likes cuddling, yo.

Pranks are his thing, he’s always up for a laugh,

People wish they had his looks, if only just half.

Why should he care if he lives a life of sin?

He can play the guitar better than Zeppelin!

Smooth talker is he, with his charm and wit,

He only wears a jersey ‘cause all the chicks dig it.

He picks on the geeks, and slushies every nerd,

He’s wily and cruel; he’s the leader of the herd.

V.

As straight as a rainbow in his bright pink blouse,

This picky Fashionista has a voice like a mouse.

Slightly irrational when it comes to his crushes,

When the Quarterback walks by, he winks and blushes.

He’s loud and nosy and you better not mock it,

A Celion Dion song is always in his back pocket.

He’s chided and mocked and tossed in his locker,

That stupid young ingénue, boy he’d like to sock her…

His hair is perfect and constantly groomed,

He wore a corset to school, and for that he is doomed.

Among the losers is he very well-liked,

Never would he dream of making his hair spiked.

His talent is incredible, he sings like no one else can,

Still he hopes one day he can be, for his father, a man.

VI.

Nasty and heartless is this Queen Bee,

She’s the classic, blonde beauty of William McKinley.

Evil and ruthless does she at surface seem,

Her icy glare cuts through you like a laser beam.

Head Cheerleader – though just a sophomore! – is her well-known title,

Her sarcastic remarks can surely bridle.

Secure she feels at the top of that social ladder,

She stands alone, though does that really matter

As long as her popularity is intact?

Surely she can keep up this impossible act.

President of the Chastity Club, she has her fun,

Her baby bump says, she has mastered the art of seduction!

Those jealous little girls, they all wish they were her,

With her big blue eyes and her ability to lure

Any man she wants or thing she may desire,

She says she is happy, though she’s a very skilled liar.

VII.

She’s a pretty head but nothing inside,

When her cat read her diary, she sat down and cried.

Ignorant and ditzy is this Promiscuous Girl,

She once had a friend, whom she named Pearl.

Blue are her eyes and blonde is her hair,

She enters her homeroom, but she’s not sure why she’s there.

She cannot be hated, most offer her pity,

There is no hope that she will ever be witty.

She is friendly to all, and friendly indeed,

Truly she knows not how to write or read.

She knows very little, she is often in the dark,

But does it really matter? She’s already made her mark.