Stoopid by Angela Thomas I am soo stoopid sometimes. I called this man with no interest whatsoever in me and I cryed over the phone to him. Stoopid. He just told me to hush and explained that I was just tipsy and I was really fine. I sat on the floor of my bedroom, with the dead phone in my hand sobbing because no one wanted to talk to me and I couldn't find any kind words. I am stoopid to believe that I could be worth anything more than all of the crap that I get. My karma is out of control. I went out the other night, and you know what, one of the girls I was with pitched a little hissy fit. Why do all the guys want to talk to you all the time?? I just sat back and looked at her and replied, because I don't say things like that, stoopid. and that was the end of our little conversation. So, when I was sitting on my floor crying, that's what I was thinking, why do they talk to me? Because, seriously, I feel like I'm the one who's fucking stoopid. 04/10/2005 Author's Note: kind of a stream of conciousness piece of crap. eh, whatever. Posted on 04/11/2005 Copyright © 2023 Angela Thomas Member Comments on this Poem Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 04/11/05 at 10:59 AM you spell stoopid like i spell dood... and what shannon said, good, i like it. Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2023 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)