That Girl at the Park

Every Monday night,
She's walking home alone.
Her Ipod is clutched in her hand
Her sorrow always shown.
She never looks up
From the pavement just below
She knows that she cannot go home
Where else can she go?
This girl reminds me of my self
When I venture through the night
She reminds me of my courage
But mostly of my fright.
She's the girl we all will miss
But never really knew
The one who was made fun of
And who's friends were very few.
She not a straight A student
But is remembered as that achiever
And those who knew her oh too well
Were her pain reliever.
So cry a few tears for her
And remember her saddened eyes
Because the kids in the park
Loved making this girl cry.