My Poem To You

People will always make fun of me,
But I don’t really care.
They call me fat and play tricks on me,
So I pretend that they’re not there.

But when someone I care about does it,
It hurts me deep inside.
And even though it makes me sick,
I still set it aside.

When I get home, I cry nonstop.
Even though the things they call me
Are things that I am not.
Still, to my heart, I will never give a key.

In my mind, the things they say
Always turn to ashes and dust,
And in black darkness, drifted far away.
And I know you may never get to read this,
It’s still my poem to you.