The world outside my home is an ugly place.
People call me names
People bully me
People just hate me
And I don't know why.
What did I ever do to them that made them
feel such hate towards me?

Some days I come home with bruises on my knees
Or just simply with tears running down my face.
As much as I didn't want to face the horrors
that awaited me outside each day, I still did.

And now, each time I look at my scars from the past,
It reminds me of the brave and invincible person I am
today.