I Was That Kid

The other boys always laughed at me,
The kid that always sits at the back of the class.
The one with
his head down,
to conceal his lost frown. The one whose confusion led to
All the students intrusion.
I was that kid.
My tears was the other boys fun,
they most enjoyed teasing me of my attire.
As they ridiculed me and called me names,
I hid my face in great shame.
The bruises on my skin were not punishments for my own skins,
but they were cruelty for my differences,
and the consequences of my existence.
I was that kid.
I couldn’t concentrate on my studies as it was me vs the rest,
because I knew what
They’d do when they found me in the hall.
The teachers says I obviously didn’t try.
But they don’t know I break down and cry when I’m alone.
I did put in effort,
I did my part; maybe I was not just smart.
Then came the pressure from family, who were so clearly disappointed that my grades were bad.
I was punished,
And picked on for the rest of the year,
because I gave up on my future.
The worst part was not that I was a disappointment.
It was the permanent,
Never ending embarrassment of always failing,
of never being good enough.
I was left alone, no one cared about me.
Why remain in a world that cares not for me?
So i began to think,
Then i decided to give up on life itself and
Leave this cruel world and its cruelty
But i guess i was a disappointment to even death itself,
As it also rejected,
So now I’m stuck in a world,
Where i can never be good enough,
Where i am nothing but a disappointment.
I am that kid.