I feel their stares,

Hear their whistles,

And see their crude gestures

As they mock me walking by.

I feel their punches,

Hear their snide remarks,

And see their laughter

As they threaten me walking by.

I whisper to myself,

They can’t touch me.

Hoping it’s true, there are witnesses everywhere,

But truly I know, that they don’t care.

I whisper to myself,

Be strong.

Hoping I don’t shed a tear, giving in to more ridicule,

But really I know, that it won’t help.

As I pass their group in the street, everyday,

I wish I were invisible, wishing to be hidden from their torture.

It doesn’t matter what I wear, or who I’m with,

They all stop to stare as I walk by.