she knew that she wasn't at all pretty,

all because of the magic she's performing,

had she known silver to red was not witty,

she would not come this close to dying.

she knew that

she hadn't gotten any smarts,

from her ma, pa, nor from her pet horse.

but someone would always slam her

tattered shred of ego into tests,

that she'd gotten

with shame and even worse.

she knew that the sun didn't revolve

around her,

but it didn't stop her search

for that gleam of sunshine.

seeking with all the hope

that's yet to murder,

she wished that it'd be fine.

she knew that everyone hated her,

and wanted to test her hypothesis,

she dove,

and need not struggled to breathe,

everyone still hated the dead her.