TW: Bullied

In a sea of voices not my own,
I spoke a language I'd always known.
In halls where English felt like a crime,
I faced the sting of prejudice and grime.

Their laughter echoed, sharp and clear,
a taunt that stung, a jeer I'd hear.
"Why do you speak in words so strange?"
Their scorn felt like a biting change.

Each phrase I spoke was met with scorn,
in a world where I felt so forlorn.
My words, though true, were cast aside,
in a tide of mockery, I tried to hide.

Yet through the whispers, cruel and cold,
my spirit fought to stay bold.
For in the struggle, I found my grace,
a voice that couldn't be erased.