Just so you know, this is an overreaction to a tough day at school. I am not goth, I do not want to hurt people. This my feelings poured into words.
I bow my head
as I walk past.
But I hear them giggling,
feel their glares
searing into my back.
I hear their whispers
but I don't look up.
"There goes goth"
they say to each other,
and giggle
as though it is funny.
As though I don't feel
as they do.
As if I can't hear
or know.
As if I am a hard shell
with nothing inside.
They think
that because I am different
I can't feel pain.
So I bow my head
to spare them from my ugliness
and to spare myself from theirs.
I bow my head
so I don't have to look into their eyes
for I already know what I will see.
Hate.
I want them to hurt too,
I want them to feel
Pain.
My pain.
I want them to pay
for the pain
they have given me
and to be sorry.
I finger the object under my jacket,
cold and hard and long
and deadly
and know that I could make them pay.
If I wanted to.
But I bow my head
and walk on.


I don't even think that you wold need it much. Ask me for reviews on novels or stories, please. I won't disappoint you on that(I never do poetry reviews but I didn now sonce you asked for ti 
I just can't think of anything else to critique! I guess that's a good thing, in a way. For you, anyway.