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Cardboard
You are special in your own way, my congratulations.
We believed that simple lie since the first person called us ugly.
Since then, I saw people transforming themselves into different mediums;
Products of not so much themselves but of others;
Something they could be proud of.
Young girls molded their shapes from clay and boys became obnoxious
coloured pencils.
We tried being fun and outgoing.
We joined all the clubs and became a friend of every clique.
They told us we were well-rounded and desirable.
This is what we wanted, to be liked by all.
Desired, decorated, and dangerous.
But who are any of us kidding?
We are just cardboard.
We all strive to be cardboard;
Browned and thin.
Flexible beyond compare,
Unassuming to any extent.
Dull, drab, and depressing.
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