Oh, she thinks, as she squats down and squints at the figures in the water,

How shallow these creatures are.

Running around with their idealistic view

Of life,

No idea what the real world means,

No idea what suicidal means other than "wimpy freak show,"

No idea what life is without money.

Like puppies, or children,

It's all heaven and no hell,

And there's never anything bad about anyone

Unless they oppose you.

Oh, she thinks,

Staring at one and letting a small tear fall...

He is one of the worst of all,

One of the most materialistic,

One of the most.

And oh, she thinks,

How terrible it is that he thinks that


of all people,

Has felt a depression.

He can write "deep, dark poetry on


Like losing an important game."

Teacher encourages it, too.

Teacher wrote a poem.

Teacher said he was sad about the game.

"Tall, dark shadows closed in and the rain seemed

Heavier than before.


...Why did they have to win?"

And oh, she thinks,

This must be the

Shallow End.

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