A letter to all those mean kids.

You walk down the hall like you own the place. 
But who cares that your daddy's rich even though your mommy's not?
Who cares if you've got the hair of a goddess and the voice of an angel?
Who really cares that you've got the looks, even though you get bored when you hit the books?
You care, but what's the point? One day, I'll own you, if you keep dissing me, and you keep hating her.
I only care that you've got a boyfriend, even though you're in the seventh grade. Gross. 
I only care that when you insult me, you don't even use proper grammer. Sad. 
Maybe if you did your honework you would. 
You're pathetic. 

It is Unknown