They don’t know
Who he is,
The new kid.
Where he came
From, or why
He’s here.
He walks down
The halls
In utter silence.
Head down, and
In the shadows
Of other walkers.
He sits in the
Back of my old
Classroom, head
Down, eyes red.
No one knows how
Smart he really is.
No one but me.
They judge him.“That new kid’s goth,â€?
Or “He’s Frankenstein
in disguise,� is
What I here.
They don’t give
Him a chance.
They don’t know
What’s inside.
They don’t know
The hurt that’s
Inside of him.

Only I, the ghost
Of Black Hill
High School does.
I jump inside
His mind and
Watch over and over
The memories
That play back
In his head
Day after day.

The students
Continue to stare
At this “new kid.â€?
The only contact
With the real
World is, that
Gang that hangs out
In front of the school,
Who he starts fights with.
They always leave
A staring glare
With the “new kidâ€?
And the gang leader.