Seen?

Class call your name and stand off.

All present but one a good day for the some.

But teacher teacher I'm right here?

Assignments in with jolly and cheer.

Sweet little girl where is your paper today?

Didn't you see it pass me along the way.

 

To ignore and to unwillingly hide this is the place that I reside.

With shallow voice and meek hands this is not where I stand.

Yet pass me by my will and test, pass me by my joy and rest. 

What it must be to be known and seen. To be hear by others and to no one you lean.

What pleasures must resound when joys and acceptance are easily found.

Yet here I stand with mocking sway "Despite your words I am gay, and with bitter tounge and passive agression do not mock my depression. As my anxieties and paranoia lerk while you mock that I failed to complete my work."

But write my words on a fragile screen to shatter and bend reality.

With words on tounge and a voice unheard, such a pitiful casualty.

Yet pity is the words I take if that at all. For who would care for some random girl crying against a wall?

So keep tounge tied tight and speak no words for errors are not theirs.

Take what you have made as well as others and fix their worthless wares. 

For in the time you slit your throat there are few who care.

This poem is about: 
Me

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