The Joys of Being an Outcast
You don't know what it's like to wake up every morning dreading school. Knowing no one cares when everyone stares. I get scared, I wanna go home. Wrap my face up with bandages because there are no dogs allowed in school. You don't know how much I wish to be accepted. When I stare at the mirror, I wish I can grab scissors, cut myself a body of a swimmer. How much I want to consider myself a winner. I wish I had a face like a celebrity. Filled with beauty, and flawless. No need for creams, toxins, and chemicals. A smell like roses as they first bloom. Not just an enhanced man perfume. I wish I wasn't so horrid and displeasing. Wish I had the courage to stick up for myself. Shot by words, and stabbed by actions. I act like words don't hurt but, they kill me every time I hear them. Fear going to school without a jacket, because you know they'll laugh. It echoes and follows you home. Still, I will never give up. I may be broken, I may be ugly, fat, stupid, annoying. I will keep fighting until it's all in the past. The future is my present. Even if I finish last, as long as I passed. These are the joys of being an outcast. |
👁 15💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.