In a schoolyard where children should play and learn, Lived a boy with dreams, in every turn. His skin, a tapestry of the earth's deep embrace, Became the jest of jokes, a heartbreaking case.

His friends, cloaked in innocence, began with a tease, Not knowing their words cut deep, like a winter's freeze. Laughter echoed, a chorus of ignorance so blind, Leaving scars on the heart, and shadows on the mind.

The jest grew crueler, as days turned to night, No solace found in the morning's light. His tears, they fell, in front of all to see, A soul crying out, longing just to be.

Silenced by fear, that speaking would extend, The cycle of jokes, with no means to defend. His voice, once vibrant, now trapped in a cage, As the mockery continued, page by page.