This is a lovely and very true poem. I get frustrated sometimes with all the people who dye their hair black or non-hair-colored red because they think it'll make them more unique.

You got your message across perfectly in fifty words. Congratulations! That's the mark of a good poem, isn't it, the ability to make the reader think what you're aiming for?

Anyway, this is a lovely poem, and I am supremely jealous of your dedication (50 stories and/or poems? Brilliant!).

Cheers! Piombi Pozzi.

You leave me in awe after reading your poems. And this one is one of your best. All your poems are nicely written and I adore them.
Crucified.

I like the archaic phrasing throughout this poem. It brings a new depth to the descriptions and a tone of wise admonishings. Perhaps because I love it so much that the ending with its insult jarred me.
It's a personal taste (I don't quite like the insult), but the difference of the bluntness of "of what you do not sense/you selfish/idiots/you are loved." and the rest of the poem is very distinct and adds a little more power behind your message and vehemence against the goth/punk trend in your school.
Izzy J.

This is humorously true. My highschool was plagued by the goth virus, the punk/freak virus, the i'm going to slit my wrists to fit in virus, when all of them had great loving families (at least those I knew and had been at their houses). I like how you portrayed this but I think it could go a little deeper if you didn't just call them selfish idiots but how about fucking immature spoiled dramatic little brats? I am glad I am done with highschool...hehe. I congratulate you for writing this! Plus favorite to you!