I was a dull teenager

I was a dull teenager.
A square peg out-of-place.
I didn’t rebel; I obeyed.
I studied; I read.

Party goers avoided me.
They thought me dull.
I was the wallflower.
One who had ‘pity’ dances.

The pretty girls whispering.
They stop when I join in.
I was not cool as them.
Within a minute I was alone.

I understood the stigma.
Being smart isn’t the issue.
Not being beautiful was.
And a plank didn’t help.

Don’t get me wrong.
I had fun times too.
My version of fun,
others called it dull.

I was a dull teenager. Why?
Because my nose was in a book.
I read, I wrote, I studied.
I wore spectacles, I was a nerd.

At sixteen I was still waiting.
Not having being kissed, what?
Was there anything worse?
Yes, not having a boyfriend.

Being a Catholic had drawbacks.
A parents’ trust kept unbroken.
I am no angel, nor a saint.
My conscience pricked, I said no.

Others smoking, others drinking.
A dance party in dim-lights.
Having morals made me dull.
A dull teenager, standing alone – always.

By C.E. Pereira
(25-5-2017)

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