Spectacular

 

I am nothing spectacular 
My breasts are small and my face is plain
And perhaps I am what they say I am- 
Just the sum of all my quiet whispers
My excuse me's and thank you's
And "yes, I stayed that late at the library", replies
But behind closed doors I will drown myself in a novel
I will write until my eyes get too blurry for me to see the words
 until my head grows dull
And if the world ended tonight
Believe me
I wouldn't regret a single word
I am unspectacular 
To the masses
To every waisted breath that questions my use of time
And perhaps it's a complement when a world of cruelty 
and a population lacking in artistic beauty
 questions my ability to simply fit in

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