A/N: Warning; kind of a bit sappy, but gets less sappy. The whole point is that it gets less sappy. Hope you like it! (Makes me cringe with the sap, but I thought other people might like it, anyway.)
...
The boy in the corner; they burnt his clothes;
The dark orange flames, they tore the sky,
The ash-blackened wood and hot white crumbs,
His home up-a-blazing, they burnt it all.
...
The boy in the corner; they beat him up;
Black-blooded fists that hit him hard,
His bruise-littered face, skin pale-white-numb
His gaze-hung; it's raining, they left a ball.
...
The boy in the corner; they called him names;
The broken bone words stung his face,
The stick-spitting taunts taught him to hide,
He taunts them back and plays a fool.
...
The boy in the corner; they paint his house;
The letters, large; black ink obscene,
They call him a monster; 'Demon Child',
At night, he white-washes his walls.
...
But he continues.
...
The boy in the corner; he wears a suit
In orange and he breaks his fists in training
And he shouts out loud his talents
And he paints for them on mountains
They kill his clothes, he wears them better
They beat his face, he wins their battles
They spit in hate, he yells he'll save them
He'll take paint and build their village and remake them.
...
The boy in the corner leaves the class.
