Meant to be seen, not heard.

Hey rich girl,

What's it like to have everything? With all your glitter-gold finery and flashy fad­fashions, quick cars and classy bars? Too many lovers, enough friends? Or do you know? Do you even think about it?

A look, a glance, is all it takes to melt an admirer or chill another's soul. Do you ever think you might be breaking some longing guy's heart needlessly, someone you don't even know? Do you ever think about the shy girl? You know, the one in the corner, whom you never seem to notice? She's not pretty or flighty with no beaus and no flitty flock of "friends." No, you've got it all. A paper doll that all wish for and few, oh, so few who can afford. Who can afford your wicked whims, your wildish ways, your childish plays?

Hey, you, do you ever think about these things?

Hey rich girl, what's it like to be so rich?

I know what everyone thinks. Because maybe, things are meant to be seen, not heard. I don’t need to work for a decent life, I don’t need to do more than ask to get exactly what I want. But maybe I do, because maybe what I really want, is to be really loved.

But everyone still think I have an easy life.