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Is this your way to punish me?

To tell me that I'm wrong?

Is this your way to hate me, because I am not strong?

Did I do something really bad?

Something to earn this fate?

Did I do something terrible? Enough to make you hate?

I thought you loved me, like the others

I thought you cared when you held me close and dear,

I was blind apparently, I was something horrible to fear.

Life shouldn’t be this painful, what are you doing to me, God?

Get down here to this forsaken land, get over here to listen to me, fraud!

I feel the crushing pain, underneath my very vest.

I don’t know what to do, about the agony in my chest.

It's the hurt my heart feels, every time you give that look to me.

I can't stand it anymore; I can't stand for you to see.



I hold a pair of scissors, I don’t know what to do,

But sadly this isn’t the first time. This is nothing new.

I take the pair of scissors, and hold them to my wrist,

But I will only tell you, that I didn’t go and miss.

I turn over to stare at the pictures upon my wall

My vision is so blurry, and I have the sensation, that I'm about to fall.

I wake up moments later, or has been a couple hours? To find myself in a hospital bed,

A heavy pounding in my head.

My family all surrounds me, confusion in the room

I couldn’t believe I escaped it, I escaped my very doom.



Is this your way to punish me?

To tell me that I'm wrong?

Is this your way to hate me, because I am not strong?

Did I do something really bad?

Something to earn this fate?

Did I do something terrible? Enough to make you hate?

Did I not believe in you? Or you almighty reign?

Did I cause you disappointment? So then you caused me pain?

I hate myself for everything; I've no one else to blame.

And now I'm in the news, for cutting is my fame.

I really wish to take it back, for I might not be getting well.

I have no where else to go, for I'm not good enough for heaven, for evil enough for hell.

I'm a nothing, a no one; I leave disaster in my path.

And now I'll probably die like this, ‘Cause I couldn't do the math.

But before you leave, like everyone else has done.

Please let me tell you something, I need to tell someone.

I'm not insane or crazy, I’m not the spawn of Satan, and I surely do not deserve to be locked up in a cell.

But everyone thought of me as 'different' and put me through this hell.

I do not want to die; I have a mind too.

I have feelings and opinions just like all of you.

But because I dressed differently, because I had different hair.

I was labeled misfit; no one had given a care.

I was just there,

Breathing the unused and extra air.

Invisible to the naked eye.

If I could choose a new life, I wouldn't change a thing.

Because now they all know that everything is something.

And now every time they pick on someone, every time they bully,

I hope they see my face, and then begin to worry.

They could be slowly killing that kid, from the inside, out,

Or maybe causing him to feel a wrath so strong. There is nothing for me to doubt.

That kid that they are picking on, could be the next president,

Or they could be the next rap star, maybe like 50 Cent.

Never judge a book by it’s cover, because no matter what, just like my Mother said:

‘“That book will have a story, just waiting to be read.”’

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Yeah, so....I wrote this a while ago, and It wasn't very good. Then I completely forgot about. I stumbled upon it today though, and edited and revised. I kinda like. Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Feel free to comment.