They call you ugly, they call you fat.
You can't stand, how they treat you like that.
But you don't say anything, you just pull up your hood.
They never seem to allow you, to be in a good mood.
They can't see past the surface, all they see is scars.
They don't give you the chance, to show them who you are.
The insults hurt, the accusations hurt more.
They don't know what happens, behind closed doors.
Every single insult, is just another cut.
Take away the pain, after they call you a slut.
Take a lighter, and burn your pain.
They won't be any different, they're all the same.
All of your scars, tell another story.
About all the judgment, and peoples' stupidity.
We don't get to choose, the body we're in.
Just remember, you are more than just skin.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For Problem Children
PoetryEach chapter is a different poem. Please keep in mind that these were written while I was still a teen, so if they aren't the best I understand but don't be hateful. Constructive criticism is welcome. There may be one you like. Indulge yourself. And...
