This one was written somewhere around July 11th of 2003. It was a Saturday, I know that much. Anyway, I edited it a bit before posting, but I know it's no work of genius. I'd appreciate any ideas on a better title for this one, please.

They're staring at you,
Waiting for your words.
They've been trying to force angles on you;
In secret you've been running to the curves.

Soft flesh and warm arms are much nicer
Than rock-hard muscles, rough skin, no hugs.
The one they've picked won't talk to you.
Is it wrong to find your own love?

You've got a feeling
They wouldn't like it.