Sitting in a classroom,

uncomfortable and afriad.

An empty backpack, 

been weeks since mom's been paid.

I've gotten a label,

that teacher has stamped.

Last year was horrible,

call me the tramp.

Chola, or ratchet,

That's what I've heard.

a young woman,

would have been preferred.

Class after class

no notebook, no pen.

With a baby at home

there's not much to spend.

Mom's cheating boyfriend

sits, yells, and drinks beer.

I'm cooking dinner for him

and I'd like to stay clear.

Up till early morning

bottle in hand,

I've made some mistakes,

but I need a chance.

Reading Catcher in the Rye

just isn't my priority.

They'll say it's because,

I'm of the minority.

Tonight it's the same, 

oh but this time I'm slapped.

Kicked out for the night

I'll have to adapt.

School in the morning

seems like a joke.

I got a baby, and no home

I'll forge a note.

I'm falling behind,

I'm a "lazy ass"

step in my shoes Mr. Houffman,

I slept on park grass.

I'm a high school dropout

I'm a faillure at life.

I got no where to go,

no place to hide.

The counselor told me

in the future I'd be sorry.

But as of today,

I'd say she owes me an apology.

I have no money, no job,

and a baby to hold.

They'll find out later,

I had to be sold.