The boy's shoulders slumped as he trudged through the school gates, the weight of cruel words settling heavy on his heart. His classmates' taunts echoed in his mind like a relentless chant: "Poor boy, poor boy, your dad's a failure!"

He tried to shake off the sting, but it lingered, a constant reminder of the struggles his family faced. His father's worn hands, the creases etched on his forehead, the exhaustion in his eyes - all testaments to his tireless efforts to make ends meet.

But the other kids saw only the surface: the frayed cuffs, the thrift-store clothes, the absence of fancy gadgets. They didn't see the pride in his father's eyes, the love in his smile, the sacrifices he made for his family.

The boy felt a surge of anger, of frustration, of helplessness. Why couldn't they see beyond the poverty? Why couldn't they understand that his father's worth wasn't measured by their bank account?

He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and walked into class with a newfound determination. He would rise above the taunts, above the doubts. He would prove to himself, to his father, and to the world that their worth went far beyond their circumstances.

~X~