I'm Different

I’m Different

They spat out platitudes of discolored words,

Attempting to make others feel awkward or absurd.

In narrow hallways painted white and green,

Floor of wood covered in a tile’s waxy sheen.

They shouted unwelcomed, undeserved obscenities,

They mocked and sneered and cast lots vigorously,

But in the end, I had to ask myself to consider,

Who was it that was attacking throwing fiery these cinders.

Day after day, like Lone Ranger on his saddle,

They never considered who they were bullying, it didn’t matter.

To win the battle and never consider losing the war,

Was more to their liking, using cutting words as swords.

It was the fat kid or dark kid, or anyone deemed different,

Than those who spoke or acted or laughed inconsiderate.

Those were the ones considered different less brawn,

Stifling their voice, their life, their world, those they set upon.

It was their way, offered many as excuses,

For allowing it to continue making many recluses.

But in time, the assaulted escaped fountains of accusations,

To different places they traveled to live without discrimination.

To live their lives, to share their afflictions from unacceptable tradition.