The Child

They called me fat and ugly

They called me shrimpy too

They said that I was useless

If only they really knew

I always was the last one

When teams were picked for sports

Then when on the playing field

The bullies pulled down my shorts

The teachers only laughed at me

When I began to cry

What they forgot was deep inside

I wanted just to die

It's hard when you are different

When you have to go to school

With children who learn to bully

Are the ones who are most cruel

Those wounds that are inflicted

Upon innocent children so young

Can scar them for a lifetime

Climbing life's ladder rung by rung

The measure of each person

Are not those things you see

But their unique abilities

When no higher than your knee

Children are like gardens

Where weeds and flowers grow

Which ones they might become

We really do not know

But if they are loved and cared

Then taught to be good and kind

They might blossom into a lovely person

That might be what you find

Try to see the inner light

That every living being shines

You must see past the physical

Then read between the lines

Those little personalities we encourage

May take a different course

Because each is a masterwork unfinished

Where we all help set their course.