Melancholy

Sanity is becoming harder and harder.
As I watch my Algebra grade go farther and farther,
I start to wonder.
As I watch this year pass me by, it's almost November
And I think I might cry.
How have I gotten so far and not even barely try?
Less and less in my bed I lie.

I know I'm a little more than useless,
Little more than fruitless.
Yet around them I'm shy.
Feeling about as greasy as a McDonald's fry,
At times as low as the sky is high.
No loves for this fifteen year old girl (not guy)
How I wish my teen years would just fly by.