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June 1, 2011
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The Looks
I hate the Looks
The ones you get for being different
The ones you get every day, for just being yourself.

It doesn’t matter if you’re smart, dumb, mean, or nice
All that matters is the clothes you wear,
Or how many braids you have in your hair.
It’s about the “clique” you belong to in school,
And how many friends you have.

Just because I don’t wear Hollister, American Eagle, or Abercrombie
You think I’m less of a person then you
You think that gives you the right
To look down on me?

Friday night
Sitting at home
Listening to the party booming next door
While I am sitting in this shadow

The Names
Hurt even worse than the Looks
Everyone knows you as the “Loser”, or the “Freak”, or even the “Slut.”
The hurt I feel everyday, which they all think is okay.

Why am I the one getting called names?
Because I’m different from you
And because I don’t wear the expensive, half naked clothing?

What happen to “personality is key?”
Judgment truly hurts
Especially because you don’t even know me
You don’t know what I have been through


Strolling down the packed school halls
Being called “greasy,” and “scrubby”
I sometimes image a life
Where people simply just say hi to me

The Loneliness
Worst of all
Leaving lunch to go to a vacated bathroom
No one there to make you feel less about yourself


Nobody there to hear your ear shattering cries
Or to see the tears that smear mascara down your cheeks.
Nobody there to make you feel better,
Or help you through the sorrow.

Being alone is all I have ever known
“I have never had anyone there for me,”
And “I don’t need anyone there for me”
That’s what I have been telling myself this whole time

House abandoned every time I arrive home
Sitting alone in the dark, with no one beside me
Beer bottles scattered recklessly across the dirty brown linoleum
Wishing for someone to save me from this nightmare

I hate the Looks
I hate the Names
I hate the Loneliness

But I like knowing who I am
And how I don’t have to fake who I am to be “Cool”
At least I know on the inside
We are all the same

We go through life as if it was a joke
Taking everything only skin deep
We need to cut trough this skin of lies
Down to the blood

We need to show everyone
That we are not what we are not what you may think we are
Someone may not know that I may have lost my mom
Or that she is a binging alcoholic


So before you begin to judge
Ask yourself
Are we that much different?





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

LindsayB This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 28, 2011 at 11:26 pm
I like this poem. I think it has a great message and is really relatable, and I think about a lot of the same stuff you mentioned in it. the only thing is that i think it's a little long and almost lost my attention. maybe try to cut it down a couple verses?
 
UnComplete2 said...
Jun. 28, 2011 at 10:33 pm

I really like this poem I wish I could hear you say it so I can get the true feeling of the poem.

 

 
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