Head dropped, eyes drawn to the ground

A little boy too afraid to make a sound

Blood colors his swollen eye

But still his cheeks remain dry

Laughs echo down the hall

Worsening his never ending fall

He curses himself for feeling so weak

To his friends and family he refuses to speak

“Fag” She screams, pushing him against the wall

Fists backing up every name she calls

His lips are shut, tongue heavy and stuck

His body not even trying to dodge or duck

Everyone stares as he cleans his face

Not a single one moving from his or her place

He returns home, refusing to meet the eyes of his mother

Bending down, he smiles at his brother

They see the marks, but never do they ask

Too afraid to see what’s under the mask

He goes to his room, locking himself in

With numb movements, he gets out a paper and pen

He tries to write his pain away

But it’s still there at the end of the day

His mother stares, dressed in nothing but black

His brother suffers, begging to get him back

A little boy who never made a sound

finds himself lying cold in the ground

He has a million different faces,

A million different names

He’s in a million different places,

But his story is always the same.