High school hurts.
They judge my actions.
Maybe I’ve been hurt so I don’t act the same anymore.

They judge my grades.
Maybe it didn’t make that much sense to me.

They judge my friends.
Maybe you don’t know how good of friends they are.

They judge my relationships.
Maybe something was actually there.

They judge my taste in music.
Maybe the lyrics are my soundtrack.

They judge my clothes.
Maybe they make me feel comfortable.

But what they don’t know
is that each tear drop stains me.

If I’ve learned anything here,
you just have to take the punches.

My battle scars are hidden tattoos,
the front and back cover to my story.
Before you judge this book by its cover
Remember, it’s what’s in the inside that counts.