Does My Pride Matter?

I sit in my desk with silent,

While my friend group talks bad about me in quiet, 

They talk about how I dress,

And they absolutely despise how I act,

I start to question my decisions,

And I think I have finally came to a conclusion,

I honestly think it is about time,

To break up our group because of their respect line.


A year later I start to wonder,

How is my group since we lost our thunder,

I think they made new friends, 

But I don’t know,

It depends,

They’re all split up I think,

But then again, 

I’m not one of them,

Do they care about me,

Probably not,

I am now sad,

And no longer complete.


I made a new friend group today,

They also judge me off my gender and sexuality,

I think I will start keeping it a secret,

But then who will I be,

Why do they judge me for being a guy,

I don’t want to be judged,

Because at this point I might go to the sky,

And not return alive.

By Elliott Schoenung-Cranley

This poem is about: 



I am 13 years old and I am a transgender FTM, this poem is about me from when I was in sixth grade.

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