Site of the writer Andrew Wood

Now before I start I would to convey the fact that I hate this poem with an absolute passion and feel that it is not good enough on any technical standard so please don’t pick at it too much. I do want constructive criticism 🙂

So anyway… here goes:

A Poem About Bullying

Here I sit all sad and alone,

Nobody else here to see

How much pain this is causing me

And how my imperfections are being boldly shown.


Why do they do this?


Walking through the gravel grounds

Listening to troubling taunts, insults and jokes

Like thousands of painful sword-like pokes.

I am getting tired of all these sour sounds.


Why must they do this?


On the stool in biology class

With my face in my hands; tears in my heavy head.

How long will it be before I see red?

Their words are so coarse and crass.


What makes them do this?


The corridor is the tedious tunnel of hate,

With little gremlins gnashing their teeth

And pointing me out much to my grief.

Their malicious mouths send me off to my fate.


How would they like it if it was them?


So here it is between Maths and English

That I finally throw down my bulky bag

And deal out the punches, blood making him gag,

Seeing him off to the finish.


How did he like that?


They leave me alone if just for a week

After I lash out with fists like flails.

They scatter away; between their legs are their tails

Looking positively pathetic and rather meek.


Should I be enjoying this?


My red-stained path of awkward anger and retaliation,

Hurting an innocent has now caused me terrible trouble

And has burst my ticking time bomb bubble.

Now I am looking for some retribution.


How could I have done this?


And so it is here – the delightful day I finally leave,

Looking to the future and my hopes and dreams

Which were once downtrodden and ripping at the seams,

But the first fateful thing I must do is grieve.


What have they done to me?


There it is. I hate it but I suppose most people would hate their own work if they aren’t entirely happy with it…


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