Maybe it's time, that I give you a simple rhyme.  A reason to listen, as my eyes glisten.  I'm tired of the lies, those that binds and ties; my very soul from becoming whole.  I may not be the poster child, but I wasn't raised up wild.  Don't mock me in front of the class, because you cannot harrass; me anymore, for I will settle the score.  I will be better than you for this is true.  I will conquer my dreams, and rip your insults at the seams.  you, for this is true.fot