ou claim to know me. Yet you don’t see my pain, my suffering, my black, shriveled up excuse for a heart. All you see is the smile, the overweight child, the kid that sits alone at lunch. You claim to know me. If you did, you would see that that smile is just a floodgate, holding back the rivers of tears, pain, sorrow, fear, and despair. You would see that my overweight size is just a shield, a casing, an exoskeleton if you will. You would see I sit alone not by choice, but by exile. You would see behind my eyes lie scars, hidden tears, fear, horrible years, and the musings of a child. If you got to know me, you would see why I don’t talk, why I hang my head when I walk, why I spend all my time on a laptop, why I play video games, why my biggest goal is fame, why I sit in the back in shame, why I’m so quiet when I call your name. I’m not as tough as I appear to be. I live my life in fear, I cry myself to sleep, your words do hurt, I live my life behind a mask of false joy and hope. I can’t count the times I’ve wished I wasn’t. This life is all a facade, I am just an exhibit on parade. But I am more than that. I am the kid you copy off of, the kid who's always there for you, the kid who always tries to make you smile, the one who fights for what is right, the kid who cares, the kid who is living a nightmare, the kid who goes the extra mile, the kid who you push out of the way to reach the top, the kid who will never give up, the kid who wants to star in the show, the kid who only hears no, the kid who wants to be your friend, the kid who's there till the end. But no matter how hard I try, you still push me around, and I wonder why. And then I realize the reason you push me around is because I am not who you want me to be, I don't conform to your perfect world, I stick out, I am an original. You are mean to me because I am me and not you or your friends. I am not a poster child. But I am proud of who I am and I will always be me, and no one else. But I am one thing that you are. I am human.