They call me Billy No Mates.

The weirdo in the bubble,

the boy without a friend.


“There goes Billy No Mates!”

and I just run and hide,

back behind my book.


My shield, My world,

a kingdom of My own,

here I am Hero and here I am Warrior.


Then comes the part of the fairy tale,

where all is but a nightmare,

when the monster beats me down.


In the playground I have no sword,

I am less than sticks and stones,

the word “loner” branded into my very soul.


“Why’s he always by himself?” they ponder as they chide,

“Billy No Mates, what a freak!”

Don’t they know they make me run and hide?


Don’t they know I don’t understand?

Don’t they know they never gave me a chance?

Don’t they know Billy No Mates didn’t ask to be alone?


“Here comes Billy No Mates, now let US hide!”

Don’t they know that all I want is just to say “Hello!”

Don’t they know Billy No Mates cries himself to sleep at night?


Billy No Mates is not brave.

Don’t they know “Billy No Mates” is not my name?