Is my poem good?

Question

Its about the everyday life of a outcast.

The eyes always watching

The laughter always present

The fingers always pointing

The people all the same

They feel with no compassion

These people I call strangers, friends, even family think I have no clue

They think I am blind, deaf, and dumb

Blind to the looks, the stares, the hatred in there face

Deaf to the laughter, the comments, the constant hushed tones

Dumb the what is said behind my back, and to my face

They know not that I hear the conversations they say when in there mind I am somewhere else

They know not I see the snickers after a joke at my expense

They know not that I am human

I am a person just as they are

I do feel pain

I do bleed when cut

I am mortal

I do cry tears more often than I wish

They are no better than me

I am no better than them

We are tall the same

Whether they see a person, weight, glasses, or braces

Whether they feel love, envy, kindness, acceptance or hatred

We are one in the same

We love

We laugh

We breath

We die

All of us struggle to make it through the day

Whether its struggling with teasing

With school

With work

With family

With friends

With money

With loneliness

With death

Or with providing for you’re your children

We all do it day in and day out

Why

Because we are all human

Because we are doing whets necessary to survive

So listen to me when I say this

The hatred

The envy

The sadness

The suffering

Take it from me, a mere child who has been through all of it

These feelings

These acts

Need to be ended

We are all human

One in the same

We are all just trying to make it to tomorrow

Trying to survive

I am no better than you

And you are no better than I

Answer 1

it's ok .   here a short i once wrote

it called Exceptions  

   A world, one world we all share

Yet in this world, I shed a tear,

For so young are these men, yet so far they must go

Abusing, and bleed me

An out cast they say yet and out cast they yet know.

For in this world you must remember what once was one way, can always become another. But yet they stay and put.

So the blood still poor form the heart of my soul.

Has they yet not realizing, the pain they feel.  

So they mask with pain of blood form my soul. When real the pain of bleed, is of there own.  

So much do I tire to show them, but yet so far form sight douse it still remains?  

For when exceptions come can they final be free.

An when expectation come may my freedom come has well.

Now I must expected that they will never expected the truth of there souls,  

Or

The pain of there blood,

But forgive them I shell for they are young and unwise to there eye.  If only they could see how I see then maybe there dreaded souls of blood wouldn't bleed so well.    

hope you enjoy it , not my bet work but i saw it was alright

Answer 2

wow nice poem

im hoping it doesnt reflect ur life - its just sumthin u had to so for skool or sumthin

if not i'll b ur frend lol

no seriously

;-)

Answer 3

It is touching. Good work.

Answer 4

Cool! How about mine's. It's about the life of a dolphin.

Oh, to be a dolphin.

It lives in the ocean.

When one is injured, blood pouring, it's friends just swim away.

Then a shark comes swimming by.

He can smell the blood.

Hungry, the shark is hungry.

The shark then eats it's dinner.

Why does this happen?

Why does the dolphin's friends just

Leave him?

It's just like at war.

Groups of soldirs huddled together.

Shooting out the lives of other people.

When one soldier is shot and is badly

Wounded, his friends have to leave him because they know he'll die.

He then pours blood.

One soldier from the other army

Passes the dying soldir.

He can hear his breathing.

His only breath of life.

The soldir then shoots the last drop of life out of the dying soldier.

That is like the life of a dolphin.

Predator and prey.

Oh, to be a dolphin.

Do you like it?

Answer 5

id say you have no talent at all.

its really a sad pile of garbage.