Most of my nights were spent alone
crying to myself
my best friend far gone
steady being bullied
childhood ruin-er
fights with my mother
sometimes wanted to be through with her
just a misunderstood youngin'
i was too shy and quiet
my book was the only one that listened
i could cry, i could scream
express my secret dreams
convinced i was a freak
risked my health and my vision
people hated my physique
cried to her face
nobody was listening
so i found an outlet
my dad said "sticks and stones"
i didn't assist me
my poems are emotional
i can't help it, it's within me.