Sureal, Tsar Casm, Quality
I Know I'm Different, For I've Always Been Told..
For Within Me, God Must Have Used A Broken Mould..
My Whole Life, Always Been The Butt Of All Jokes..
But Whenever I Speak They Say 'Shut Up, You Hoax'..
My Dear Parents Care, What Almost Seems Too Much..
I Cherish All Feelings Felt, Even A Simple Touch..
Because I Speak Slurred, I'm Hated With A Passion..
Never Share Much, Always Leave Feelings Fastened..
Yet Noone Understands My Heart, Nearly Torn Out..
One Day A New Friend, Overcame All My Worn Doubts..
All He did Was Acknowledge My Life, A Small Wave..
For He Inspired Me Greatly, I Could Now Stand Brave..
But... One Day He Passed Me, A Push Then A Shove..
His Friends Laughed, As He Floated Down From Above..
Showed He Was One Of Them, Had No Care For My Kind..
Just Because I'm Disabled, I Was Again, Left Behind..
A tasteful image..with a vulgar surrounding..
My life as a gimmick..a group of mutual boundings..
Forsake me as a Christian..in name of deceny I've failed..
I was on a mission..now my objectives have de-railed..
Started from a humble beginning..I was the one overlooked..
It went from nothing to winning..ending up in a posers book..
My original friends remained.. on their same track..
Leaving me with my sinful end..pressing this lame act..
How could this come with such an attack..from a change of cloths..
The popularity that I lacked..has turned all my friends to foes..
All my news friends..are the so called 'tough guys' of the school..
And to myself I make amends..for being the black sheep type fool..
Mischevious ideas..set in my brain to wreak havoc..
Now everyone hates me..when I speak none will hate it..
And to my original friends..the ones to which popularity was blind..
They all had soon grown up..and I remained emotionally left behind.
I despise school, my eyes full -
Everywhere, the fear is sent again to me. .
I wish everyone could experience the feelings when the mirror is your enemy
Wearing thin -
at school dances, my head hurts and fun recedes. .
As the 'young women' scoff whilst I trudge by in sweatshirts & dungarees
Doom envelops, "you'll soon develop,"
my Mother "knows my trough won't stay shut"
Here I am, Mom. . Eighteen years of age, & I'm showing off an A - Cup
My chest fends the boys off
and my prize disguises years. .
That are being spent reading glamour magazines and idolizing peers
A pitiful life, ridding the strife?
Impossible; in fact, the dream is moreover leaking. .
Truthfully, I'm the only person in the world who looks forward to sleeping ( & daily. .)
They call me 'butter-face. .'
& I dread tomorrow as my face shines
That is, to go home to drown embedded sorrows in their bass lines
I listen to stories, abysmally gory -
unanimous:I meant to be frowning. .
Somebody's knocking at my door, in fact, it's my destiny pounding
Hello, destiny -
in my room, she grabs disastrous drawers. .
Takes one look at my rack, then laughs & slams the door. .
Supper talk, defunct & all. .
Of their days, the children must be selected to share
As the woeful family tries Pepsi & rice-a-roni to drown collective despair
The parents ignore it -
their kids could shake the plague and its hysteria
That induces its plight on the collective youthful Asians of America. .