Every day I catch the train,
Psyche myself up -
To face the pain,
The hate and meaningless torture.

Every day I prepare myself,
For comments that I know will come,
The comments that make me hate myself,
And feel that no one cares.

Every day, I hope, I wish,
That I had someone there,
That I could tell the list
Of things that they have done.

Every day I try to cope
With 'the three' that hate me so,
But nope - I cannot cope
Cos I have no one to help.

I cannot tell the teachers cos I know
That nothing will be done,
And I wish that I could go
Somewhere away from them.

I don't know what I've done,
To make them so pissed off -
But life has lost it's fun,
And I wish that I could die.