Walking into school with two weak legs.
Praying I won’t be seen.
Hoping it will change.
I open my locker while hearing laughter in the background.
I know I am the subject they’re talking about.
Hoping it will change.
Going to gym to play sports.
Last is my middle name.
Hoping it will change.

Class is easy.
Except for the papers hitting my head, my back, my face.
Hoping it will change.
I walk out of the school.
Still I feel their eyes on me.
Hoping it will change.
I sit down on the bus.
Alone is my first name.
Hoping it will change.

Home is the same.
My family is not a family.
Hoping it will change.
I sit on the floor crying.
I have no bed.
Hoping it will change.
I lay wondering if I will eat.
Different is my last name.
Will it ever change?