This is a new style of poetry i'm trying out. Tell me what you think. You see a person in the hall. You're staring. Don't see where you're going, Trip and fall. He turns his head and sees you. You now see It was not meant to be: hes laughing and you hear something about tying your shoe. The other boys think he's cool. He listens to rock. They call him a jock. They start listening to Tool. Soon he's one of the MVP's. They say "cool way of talking" and "cool way of walking" Now all the boys are copies. Now, individuals are few. They all wear Abercrombie and Fitch. Once he called you a bitch. Now they all do. Stupid Sheep.