That boy who you called weird next door
Is struggling to support his family of four
His mothers been bed bound with depression for weeks
And each night his blood runs as alone he weeps

And that girl you said was living the high life
Comes home each night to her father beating his wife
She cries and screams but always loses
Each morning with makeup she covers the bruises

That quiet boy who you called gay
Is overcome by thoughts of harm each day
He hates himself, his wrists are scarred
With thoughts of death his mind is barred

That girl you saw who you called obese
She starves herself without release
She can’t stand to see herself In a mirror
Her tears have stained on her pillow