There is always one who doesn’t fit.

They won’t be told. They will not sit.

Glowering looks with words that shame.

They point the finger. They like to blame.

Excluded from class – told to go home.

Their parents lost –  reading every tome.

Look a little closer – hear what they do not say.

That child is hoping for a brighter day.

Their words not meaning to hurt you deep.

They just have nightmares in their sleep.

Words do not always help that child.

Love does more to make them mild.

A gentle hug – a happy smile.

Removes the pain – a little while.

That child you see is not a brat.

They need love more. No more than that.


© The Secret Poetess, November 2016