
Stuck in this Cycle
Location
Laughter all around me, students talk about me
As I walk these halls, I can hear whispers
The air is still and I hold onto my books as I'm receiving these grimicing looks.
I approach my locker, gripping onto the metal handle, hard and cold.
Thinking about a time that I was told "Why am I so ugly?"
I began to cry and once was told a lie. "Don't worry about them. Your beautiful"
Believe it or not, I cannot. My eyes are filled with tears and the students are all in cheers.
My feelings do not mean a thing and I am stuck in this cycle of constant bullying.
Guide that inspired this poem: