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The theme suggest of loving yourself and always motivate yourself to keep going,

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The poem gave me the idea that the author was explaining events that occur now that have happened before.

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It's presence is seen throughout the poem as the author uses it to create a flow of his words.

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The author is telling the poem from his own perspective. Hes telling of his experiences growing and the events he has gone through.

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Is seen throughout the poem when the author is making a claim and providing examples throughout his story.

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The author has a cheerful tone when he starts off the poem but as he progresses the tone changes to a more upsetting tone and ending with a tone of reassurance.

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Shane Koyczan

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When I was a kid
I used to think that pork chops and karate chops
Were the same thing
I thought they were both pork chops And because my grandmother thought it was cute And because they were my favourite
She let me keep doing it

Not really a big deal

One day Before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees I fell out of a tree And bruised the right side of my body

I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about it
Because I was afraid I’d get in trouble
For playing somewhere that I shouldn’t have been

A few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise And I got sent to the principal’s office
From there I was sent to another small room
With a really nice lady
Who asked me all kinds of questions About my life at home

I saw no reason to lie
As far as I was concerned
Life was pretty good
I told her, “Whenever I’m sad My grandmother gives me karate chops”

This led to a full scale investigation
And I was removed from the house for three days
Until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises

News of this silly little story quickly spread through the school
And I earned my first nickname

Pork Chop

To this day
I hate pork chops

I’m not the only kid
Who grew up this way
Surrounded by people who used to say
That rhyme about sticks and stones As if broken bones Hurt more than the names we got called
And we got called them all So we grew up believing no one Would ever fall in love with us That we’d be lonely forever That we’d never meet someone To make us feel like the sun Was something they built for us In their tool shed
So broken heart strings bled the blues As we tried to empty ourselves
So we would feel nothing
Don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone
That an ingrown life
Is something surgeons can cut away That there’s no way for it to metastasize

It does

She was eight years old
Our first day of grade three When she got called ugly We both got moved to the back of the class So we would stop get bombarded by spit balls But the school halls were a battleground
Where we found ourselves outnumbered day after wretched day
We used to stay inside for recess Because outside was worse Outside we’d have to rehearse running away Or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there
In grade five they taped a sign to her desk That read beware of dog

To this day
Despite a loving husband
She doesn’t think she’s beautiful Because of a birthmark That takes up a little less than half of her face Kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer
That someone tried to erase But couldn’t quite get the job done
And they’ll never understand That she’s raising two kids
Whose definition of beauty Begins with the word mom Because they see her heart Before they see her skin Because she’s only ever always been amazing

He Was a broken branch
Grafted onto a different family tree Adopted
Not because his parents opted for a different destiny He was three when he became a mixed drink Of one part left alone And two parts tragedy Started therapy in 8th grade Had a personality made up of tests and pills
Lived like the uphills were mountains
And the downhills were cliffs Four fifths suicidal
A tidal wave of anti depressants
And an adolescence of being called popper
One part because of the pills Ninety nine parts because of the cruelty
He tried to kill himself in grade ten When a kid who could still go home to mom and dad
Had the audacity to tell him “get over it” as if depression Is something that can be remedied
By any of the contents found in a first aid kit

To this day
He is a stick of TNT lit from both ends
Could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends In the moments before it’s about to fall
And despite an army of friends Who all call him an inspiration
He remains a conversation piece between people
Who can’t understand
Sometimes becoming drug free Has less to do with addiction
And more to do with sanity

We weren’t the only kids who grew up this way
To this day
Kids are still being called names The classics were
Hey stupid
Hey spaz
Seems like each school has an arsenal of names
Getting updated every year And if a kid breaks in a school And no one around chooses to hear
Do they make a sound?
Are they just the background noise
Of a soundtrack stuck on repeat When people say things like Kids can be cruel? Every school was a big top circus tent
And the pecking order went From acrobats to lion tamers From clowns to carnies All of these were miles ahead of who we were We were freaks
Lobster claw boys and bearded ladies Oddities
Juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle
Trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal But at night While the others slept We kept walking the tightrope It was practice And yes Some of us fell

But I want to tell them
That all of this shit
Is just debris Leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought We used to be
And if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself Get a better mirror Look a little closer
Stare a little longer
Because there’s something inside you
That made you keep trying Despite everyone who told you to quit
You built a cast around your broken heart
And signed it yourself
You signed it “They were wrong” Because maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a clique
Maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything
Maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth
To show and tell but never told Because how can you hold your ground
If everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it You have to believe that they were wrong

They have to be wrong

Why else would we still be here? We grew up learning to cheer on the underdog Because we see ourselves in them
We stem from a root planted in the belief
That we are not what we were called We are not abandoned cars stalled out and Sitting empty on a highway And if in some way we are Don’t worry
We only got out to walk and get gas We are graduating members from the class of Fuck Off We Made It Not the faded echoes of voices crying out Names will never hurt me

Of course
They did

But our lives will only ever always Continue to be A balancing act That has less to do with pain And more to do with beauty.