Social Stigma

You tripped me, I fell.
You heard a secret and be the first one to tell.
You’d infuriate me so much, I wanted to yell.
I hope it all bolstered your self-worth.
You didn’t care how low you had to go.
Pointing the finger at me set your insecurities free.
In reality, you were still crucifying the mirror you broke years ago.
You took away my voice, so you’d have something to say.
You preyed on the weak, so your ego would have something to eat.
I found the closet you put on lock down and discovered what you were hiding.
It was the shameful past you were fighting.
You may the big dog on campus but I remained the bigger person.
No matter how much you and your pack cornered, bite, and hunted me down, I was still able to escape the tackle.
You may have stood so tall, but what it all comes down to is you’re that small.
You’ll yell so loud so you won’t be the odd one out.
I hope you enjoyed that four year power trip.
The fact that you had to compensate all that social approval proves you’re a weak shit.
You could have used that energy for empathy.
Instead you chose to put it all into kissing the asses of the ones who would have kicked yours.
At times I think back about everything you and your ill-bred posse did.
I’m not sure if I be tempted to spit in your eye or simply thank you.
Thank you for showing me what not to be.
You showed me the harder you try to kill that social stigma, the more live it becomes.
The more you try to assimilate, the more you sick out.