My life's like a long drawn out game of basketball. I'm here but no one passes me the ball, no one gives me a chance to make something of my life. They give me one glance, look me up and down; seeing that I'm short, thinking that I'm weak. Thinking there's no way I can survive. They barely acknowledge my existence here afterward. Every once and a while I'll become a blockade in their way of achievements, of their "goals" of life. They either ask me to move or ram me out of the way. I've let them walk all over me for too long! I'm no longer that weak little girl; my skin as become calloused from all the beatings of the world. So don't take this angelic face seriously because I have the strength to pick myself up and not give up. I'm not afraid to fight anymore. Since you won't give me a chance to make something of my life, I'm intercepting the ball or prying it from you unconscious fingers. I've knocked out everyone that's been in my way and I'm on the break away to my goal...
