Bully
They pushed me on the playground,
Told me "go away".
Because my skin isn't brown,
I couldn't play,
What had I done to them?
At the age of nine;
The victim of reverse racism.
I stood in the line,
I stood in the hall,
It didn't matter;
Not at all.
I could still hear their chatter.
All I wanted was a friend,
But every whisper and every word,
I couldn't comprehend,
The hatred I had heard.
Tears filled my eyes,
I fought to hide my pain,
I wouldn't let their lies,
Prove my new self bane.
At the age of eleven,
They push me to my brink,
Still I smile; Painful suppression,
No smiles back; My heart began to sink.
I was too poor,
I was too ugly,
They tell me more,
oh, so, smugly,
I was too pale,
I was too thin.
Its not my skin or my scale.
I'm just not Mexican.
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