Roses Upon My Grave.

Walking through the hall ways
They point, look and stare
As if I can't even see them
They lock their eyes n glare.

One of them calls me anorexic
The other calls me sickenly fat
The teachers call me selfish
And my friends think I'm a brat.

I shouldn't care of what
Other people think of me
But they keep saying
What I should and shouldn't be.

The counselor doesn't know
And doesn't even understand
That all I really need
Is a giving-helping hand.

Why is it so damn hard to see
Something so simple and clear
I've given and helped you so
Why can't you catch my tears?

I guess it's a complete shame
How people in this cruel land
Can be so harsh and selfish
And never lend a helping hand.

Maybe they'll think twice
About what they have to say
To another person
Who's diferrent from they.

So maybe they've learned a lesson
About so many things I've gave
As they watch my casket lower
They lay a rose upon my grave.