Stuck in this Cycle

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Laughter all around me, students talk about me

 

As I walk these halls, I can hear whispers 

The air is still and I hold onto my books as I'm receiving these grimicing looks. 

I approach my locker, gripping onto the metal handle, hard and cold. 

Thinking about a time that I was told "Why am I so ugly?"

I began to cry and once was told a lie. "Don't worry about them. Your beautiful"

Believe it or not, I cannot. My eyes are filled with tears and the students are all in cheers. 

My feelings do not mean a thing and I am stuck in this cycle of constant bullying. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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