It sounded like the roar of a lion,
A happy lion,
But a roar none the less,
I thought about how lucky I was,
Even being roared at was better,
Than what the lion could really do,
So take that popular girls,
With your bedazzeled pants,
Your flat-ironed hair,
Your overuse of makeup,
Your fake everything,
I got the lion's roar,
A golden seal of appreciation,
You got the lion's real anger,
And no amount of hair-flipping,
Eyelash-batting,
Or back-stabbing can save you now,
From the righteous truth,
That is the exposition,
Of nerdy, unpopular me,
Conquering,
You.