Different

I am… different.

I have chronic pain.

Any time I leave the house,

I use a crutch, a walker, wheelchair, or cane.

People think this is funny.

I get bullied a lot.

I’m scared of bringing my wallet to school, because I’m afraid I’ll get mugged for my money.

People are amused, and try to make me cry.

It was so easy last year, I was constantly being used.

But now it is harder.

I wouldn’t say I’m stronger, just more weathered.

I have more experience, and now I am smarter.

They think I am weak because of my seizures.

They don’t understand to just leave it alone, and let the adults and my friends run through the procedures.

I am teased and hated, and yet looked up to and loved.

But all I hear is the leering jokes, and it boils my blood.

But despite all this, I wear my heart on my sleeve.

I hug my friends, remind them I love them, and defend them to the end.

So let the bullies leer and jeer.

You can’t make me back down with any ease, because I believe.

I believe that we are stronger with each other, and I believe that we will last so much longer because we forever stand together.

This has been my poem, and my reminder to you all to live your life with pride.

Don’t let others tear you down, and remember it’s okay to frown.

But in the end you will find your person or people, and they will always treat you as an equal.

So stand strong, through good times and bad, and know that you are loved and worthy of it, even when you lash out when you’re mad.