Letters That Maybe On Rhyme

The courthouse

I thought I was doing okay.
You said I was doing alright! Lies!
"Heavenly liars" put a curse on me that would never go away. They made me feel insecure, and they were the roots of my self-hatred.
How ironic that whether I tell the truth or not, I'm still invalidated. And they made me believe that I'm just at the level where they see me.

Schools are like prisons; students are the prisoners with numbers on their backs, except that the students are defined by ranks and numbers on paper.
Oh, such heavenly lies! How miserable it is to feel heaven in such lies to attain validation.
And then there's the courthouse, for the final verdict that I would carry in this purple autumn of mine.
where the red and blue hues form a warm, unhappy soul. "Coming from the room of one's blood," my judges' words were damaging. And I was amused this time because my body turned cold; I did not cry; I laughed out of irony.