Regrets

You look at me,
In denying grief,
Knowing the truth of what I speak.
Know within your heart that--
It's people like me you would tease.
"I'll tell you what, kids are mean."
Ugly.
Fat.
Loner.
Four-eyes.
Bookworm.
I know that--
I'm on of the victims
You used to tease.
A different name,
A different face,
Different insults,
A different place.
Loser.
Clumsy.
Weak.
Yet now, you regret,
that hastened judgment.
But--
that won't take
the insults back.
Annoying.
Whiny.
You don't know
about the times
I felt my blood run cold
when I touched the kitchen knives.
You don't know about
the tears I cried
or how felt
I'd died inside.
You didn't know
that I stopped
trusting everyone.
You never heard
the speech that
teasing builds character,
because they didn't want
to upset you.
You weren't the one
befriending teachers
for lack of anyone else.
And I know you never saw
the pain behind my eyes
because I never let you.
Teacher's pet.
Know-it-all.
Bookworm.
Four eyes.
Whiner.
Loner.
Ugly.
Fat.
Weak.
Clumsy.
Annoying.
Another time,
A different place,
a different name,
some one else's face.
I ran,
And hid,
sometimes I thought
my soul had died,
lost as the demons
taunting me in my head.
But now--
I'm better.
I'm not the one
waiting for someone else
to tell me
just who it is
I ought to be.

21 May 2004

I was speaking to an adult friend that goes to my church, and he tells everyone how bad he was as a kid. I'm a rather confident person (or I act it, at least) and when I told him that, he told me kids are mean. I didn't realize it until later, but I was probably a lot like one of the kids he tormented, and that, seeing how I was a lucky one that wasn't totally destroyed, was closure he needed that some of the kids he knew turned out okay.

Once again, this really didn't fit with Irony, so I made it stand alone.

Review, please.

Lady Foeseeker