He huddles in the corner ,
Another bruise forming on his face,
The result of a fight, one sided at best.
Oh ****, how he hates this place.

He's not like the rest - his parents aren't rich,
they don't live in a country pile.
He's there because he has to be, circumstances conspire but it's not his style.

He knows he's different
But worst is, so do they.
If entertains them to bully him,
As some weird form of play.

He'd fight back but he knows how it ends,
A smack in the face, a broken lip
Pulled hair, clothes all messed up,
Everything put down to a slip.

does no one see it - what's in front of their eyes?
Does no one care how he suffers?
At home he's loved but here, not the same,
Body slamming a wall like train hitting buffers.

One day it will end.
He won't inflict it on others, he knows the cost
the pain will make him a better man,
More feeling for those, others lost.