Soliloquy of Opposites (100 words)

The lights dance upon that Christmas tree of green that is vibrant on the outside, but slowly dying on the inside.  That is me in a nutshell.  My hair and eyes are almost perfect.  I wear the designer clothes that are all the rage.  They might as well be my burial shrouds, my face paint for my eternal rest.  Am I misunderstood, or have just misunderstood what life was meant to be?  Some might blame teenaged angst, but I blame the angst against teenagers.  We are expected to play our roles, but I feel I am the one being played.

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