Judge us, condemning our every sight.
The backbenchers, a label we can't escape,
A stereotype that haunts us, a constant ache.
They think us of no use , just a trash on earth
They think that we are indifferent from others
They think us lazy, uninterested and slow,
Unwilling to learn, with minds that don't grow.
They see our laughter, our whispers and our play,...