This world is cruel hard hellish place

There is nothing that we can do about that

            Not really

Not until we stop letting ourselves be cruel and hard and hellish

I look at the faces around me and I see

            I see a generation where we have all been treated like livestock

                            Running from the dogs who have chased us

            Like toys

                            Used to amuse

To amuse those who cannot amuse themselves

                                            With a ball or a swing or a slide

We all grew up doing whatever we had to do to get by

We all grew up being called names and getting shot with whatever they could find

Pebbles and rocks thrown at our backs and heads

And even those who picked on us picked on us because they got picked on

We are the generation of kids who learned to hide in empty classrooms, in libraries, and at our teacher’s sides

We are the generation that can stop

Who can put a stop to the pain that we were taught was normal

It will not be tomorrow and perhaps not five years from now

But if we teach our children, EVERY one of our children that the pain is not okay

            If we stop saying kids can be cruel and teach our children

                            ALL of our children

            That telling the teacher is okay and that the mean kids are not right

                            Then we CAN put an end to this pain

 

She has a heart of gold

She cares about every person around her

            Big and small

            Mean or not

But she has to act like she cares about nothing

            Because caring about the words on a page

            And the answers on the board meant something to her

                            When she was but a little girl

She was beautiful

But she was DIFFERENT

She cared about those around her

She came from a different place

Her words were spoken with a northern twang

She loved bright colors and books

But she didn’t play soccer or basketball

            she liked books and the written word

            she loved the freedom of running seven feet above the ground

she became an outcast long before she was an outcast beneath the glowing red

            she was an outcast because she was different

            she was different because she grew up in a different world

                            she was born and raised in the projects where she always had more than enough

                            she didn’t know that these children that called her weird and freak

                                            were just children of tortured souls who had nothing because they had everything

                            she didn’t know that they were mean because they knew nothing else

                                            she just knew they were mean

Her mantra was that rhyme about stick and stones

because she hoped that if she said them enough that they would become her truth

or that the monsters in her nightmare would leave her alone

She hoped that if she believed that their words did not hurt then they really wouldn’t scrape at her being and put her down beneath the cold hard clay ground

And that killed her soul and thickened her skin to tough rigid leather so that no one could reach in and revive the cold dead heart within her chest.

She cares about even those who pushed her down

            And called her names

And now she wears dark clothes and screams at the top of her lungs but cannot make a sound

She writes poetry and scribbles in note books and hides in corners where she hopes she will not be seen

She sits alone wondering if anyone would ever think to call her friend

 

He is the kindest person

More honest than the rotation of the earth

            Or that the sun will surly rise

But he lives in a small town

Where being openly gay is still ridiculed and tortured

He puts on a strong face and laughs about everything

He has the greatest sense of justice I have ever seen

He has been called names like fag and monster

He has been called abnormal and weird

He has been called a sin and a freak

Fled persecution only to be persecuted

            If people only knew that beneath the smile and the jokes that he is in constant pain

            If only they would shut up and listen to the words he leaves unspoken

            If only they would realize that he fears even more than the rest of us

He has taught himself to hide his pain

            Use jokes and smiles to hide his self away

He is beautiful

He is stronger than so many others

He has the greatest smile

            And the purest heart

But so few can see it because they are too busy looking at the mask

            The persona that he hides behind

So even with the many friends he has he still feels alone

 

She spent every day trying to find her self

            She spoke in quiet tones

            And floated from building to building

She had no place to call a home

She lived from a torn tattered duffle bag

Each home had a different family

            A different faith to follow

She tried and tried to fit

            To mold her ideals

But every man who stood before her

            Told her her thoughts were wrong

She had nowhere to belong

She never knew why she was wrong

What made what she thought so wrong?

Why could she never open her mind

Why could she never share her pain?

Passing days became months

            A life measured in notches upon rubber soles

            Measured in doors and yards and people’s names

            Measured in holy water and crucifix

                            Hundreds of church pews and silent screams

In scared porcelain that’s been splashed with running red

Years and years they burnt and hurt

She wanted to see the smile of the moon and dance beneath the stars

            And even now years after a family saw her pain

            Saw her need for someone that would understand

                            The school halls are still filled with the uneducated

                            Filled with the naïve      

Those who whisper

            Devil worshiper

            And Satanist

                            Say witch like it’s an insult

                                            Like she weaves curses and hexes 

Most don’t take the time to see that the star around her neck is a sign of peace 

            Of love

            Of hope

            Of the beauty of nature that she relishes in

And though she can go home to two moms and an older brother who love her

The halls she walks she still walks alone

 

It doesn’t matter where you come from

The past you have had

We all see them

Those who sit alone

            Who need a friend

                Someone who will listen

It doesn’t matter if they come from a different place

Think a different way

See the world through different eyes

Every person needs someone

            Who will take the time to see them

            To know them

We may not be them

But we know them

Even now they hide themselves away

            Afraid to be themselves

            Afraid to wear their personalities instead of masks

We are just shadows in a masquerade ball passing our masks around

            Trying to find the one that fits

            Though more often than not we find the one that lets us fit in

                            Because it’s the one that gives us a group of friends

                                            Instead of finding the one that shows who we are

                                                            Being yourself is hard because we are taught that to survive this world

                                                                            We must hide

So let’s start with us

Let’s start with ourselves

Let’s start by putting the right face to our shadows

            Becoming real people

Finding friends that accept us

            And stop letting the fake ones win

Let’s start taking the steps to change this world

To show those who have come before us

            And those who will come after us

That if we stand strong

            Hold our ground

                            And never give up

That we can redefine normal

Normal should not be the few against the many

            Forcing the many to hide among the crowds and in dark halls

Normal should not be hate and pain

            But love and light 

Even if I stand alone

I will fight this fight

For the fight to end this pain

            Is one worth fighting

When the ones I call mine

Come to me crying

Come to me hurt

I will not turn them away

I will be their pillar

I will tell even those I do not know

                To STOP

I will stand strong

                And hold my ground

Who

Is with me?

Who

Will fight with me?