Words as sharp as knives,
Strong enough to cut through my pride,
Glares that make me feel so small,
Into self-pity and hate they make me fall,
Everyday I’m reminded that I am not the same,
My peers, family, and society force me to shoulder the blame,
I try to ignore the mindless hate,
I tell myself that God never makes mistakes,
I hide my face from people,
Behind the soothing words of Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle,
But the slander and taunts linger,
I am still known as the nerdy bookworm “queer,”
What really hurts the most,
Is the fact that nobody pleads “Leave him alone!”
As my feelings of self-worth are torn to shreds before my eyes,
Nobody answers my desperate cries,
Why are my calls for help so carelessly ignored?
What crime have I committed to be so cruelly abhorred?
As my inner strength rapidly abates,
I resign to my approaching fate,
I no longer harbor the desire to live,
What’s the point when my nonexistent sins are so difficult to forgive?
It all ends with my dad’s hunting knife,
On the evening of my sixteenth birthday I take my life,
Although the pain and suffering have ended,
I can't help but regret my decision,
I could’ve become an astronomer, philosopher, or anything I dreamed to be,
If only someone—anyone, stood up for me.