School

 

I cry myself at night.

I consider it as my lullaby.

Wondering if tomorrow it’ll stop,

Will it stop? Or maybe not.

 

I’m sure tomorrow, again, I’ll cry.

Emotionally, physically and mentally tired.

Maybe they’re right, I’m not really good enough.

I guess I’m wrong, I can’t do anything right.

 

“Weird, Weak, what a loser”

“Why don’t you hide yourself somewhere?”

Pushing me, poking me, calling me names.

For them it’s fun and all just ‘games’.

 

Sitting alone in the corner hearing murmurs like bees.

When can I survive situation like these?

I’m so lame,

I can’t fight,

I’m ashamed.

 

This is my second home,

But I do not feel safe at all.

I thought this a prison.

Filled with books and rainbows.