Scars That Speak

I was a child of immense pounds,
Smooth. soft and round.
I believe I hurt the ground,
Upon which I walked;
It shook, I was told.

Each word a dagger, each joke a harp,
Echoes followed with laughter sharp,
A shame to face, of a body unworthy,
A glance at me, left one laughing.
A song they sang, of my disgrace.

Playing fields felt like enemy land,
Cruel were the games,
Not meant to understand.
Haunted by taunts, so loud they would chant,
For mine body, they made my shame.

I believed to be more than a mistake,
No matter how much my heart would ache.
From every echo and pain,
I rise through the scars that remain,
To find my place in the world again.