If they knew what it was like
To be me for just one day,
Then maybe they would understand,
and just stay the hell away.
If they didn't laugh or tease,
Just pretended i wasn't there.
It would be a little better,
But no one seems to care.
They always call me fat,
They always give me a name,
They always call me ugly,
Like it's all just a game.
If they knew the pain i felt,
If they saw me cry,
If they understood the hurt they'd caused,
They might finally realise why.
Is it alright? constructive criticism welcome.
2007-10-06
05:18:13
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10 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry