As I walk through the halls,
There sharp words bite,
Singing bits of gossip,
Whispering sweet lies,

The look at the ones whom the speak of,
And laugh,
Expression of hurt and sorrow paint there faces,

But still the hurt underlings gather together,
Gather away,
To whisper and laugh about the same darkness that hurt them,
Just about someone less and smaller,

A lone girl hears the words of meaning less hate,
And walks home alone,
She puts on her best dress,
Does her hair and ties her neck,

The word is get out about this poor girl,
But nothing changes,
Some say she had it coming,
and so what,

It's the never ending cycle,
The never ending hate
The only thing they talk about
Is the other persons pain