The Popular Girl

One day, I met the popular girl.
I’ve sure you’ve met her, too;
The guys line up to see in her in
A sort of endless queue

But she has female friends as well.
She has them round for tea:
I wasn’t sure just why
The popular girl would talk to me

But talk to me to sometimes did.
The whole thing never gibed —
For wildly unpopular
Is how I’m best described

But there’s no more than what I’ve said.
It’s really no big deal:
It just strikes me as odd, or
Maybe even, well, surreal

One day, I met the popular girl,
And now we’re (sort of) friends;
And that’s about the whole of it.
So here, the poem ends

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means.

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