Sometimes i feel alone,
Burning sculptures come alive.
My head starts to spin with a heavy tone,
Like a bee mad at people touching it's hive.
They dont see me for who i am,
Just for what i look like.
There thoughts are pitful,
A broken bike.
As demons are placed on them,
I am in danger; eating my lunch.
As period 6 ends I walk up the steps,
They grab my backpack and my sack and munch.
My feelings burst out with tears,
As i look around on the field.
It seems like nobody cares,
No positive effect came out like a shield.
I sat down thinkin should i live or should i die?,
Theres nothing for me and this life.

 
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