They Don't Like Me

This poem risks hurting people, so be careful reading it. I realize now that how I felt then was crazy, but I was 18 at the time. I was caught between being a child and being on my own in the world. I was still living at home, but was a graduated, legal adult who would be leaving home in two months. I didn't know where I fit in at home anymore. I didn't know what was expected of me. June 2000.  

They Don't Like Me

They don't like me, but don't they love what I do?

The trophies, awards, grades and offices I bring home?

They cheer at all my events and cheer for the win.

But I might as well be there alone.

I'm on stage, faking a smile, shaking out of fear.

And they yell and clap and their camera's flash.

The looks that say hold on, come from somewhere else-

From people they consider to be trash.

But those are the looks that keep my going.

They keep the smile on my face.

I love all the lectures they give me-

But that doesn't help me win the race.

I can be president, mayor, captain and much more-

My grades can be a perfect four-point-o g.p.a.

But I'm still a lying sack of shit and lazy-

A hoe, a slut, and a bitch they say.

Then the relatives are told how I make them proud.

How I go here and there... always on the go.

And when others tell them I'm so good, it's smiles.

But then I forget the dishes and I'm again a hoe.

So maybe I'm not so good, that I will admit.

But better leaders, I know very few.

So I guess I'll live with respect not love...

Cuz they dont' like me, but love the things I do.