Other

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You look at me and then quickly look away.
But I saw the fear in your eyes.
I thrive on that fear.
It gives me power -- and respect.

Do you see these broken teeth?
A guy smashed my face in with a bat,
and I smashed his with a metal rod.

Do you see these scars?
A broken beer bottle was the weapon,
such a fight goes both ways.

I have scars on my arms
and my face.

You are right to be afraid of me.

But do you see?
Do you see the homeless boy,
making a bed in the dirt of the baseball field
behind the school.

Do you see the boy,
starved for love and a place to belong,
and receiving instead,
only apathy or harsh judgment.

Wait, I know you, teacher.

Do you see?
I was once your student,
but now I survive
the only way I know how.

So when you look at me,
when you really see me,
I don't want you to be afraid.
That little boy is still there.
Somewhere.

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