Today someone called me nice,
In fact I noticed that a lot of people called me nice,
I’m not telling you this because I want to brag,
I’m telling you this because I’m not nice,
And they’re wrong,

You’re wrong.

It isn’t me who is the nice one,
It’s just my actions that are nice,
My actions giving you a snack or offering a treat,
My actions handing your papers in for you,
My actions trying to help you with homework,
My actions complimenting you,
It isn’t me being nice, it’s my actions that are nice,

So whenever you call me nice,
I’m left split on the inside,
I think to anyone else being called nice would feel great,
In fact, it would be a very nice thing to say,
But to me at least,
It makes me guilty for fooling you,
It makes me wonder if you even know me,
Because I know I’m not nice,

I act like I do without thought,
Not because I’m nice,
But because it’s not me acting,
But because I’m not even thinking,
But because that’s not even me,
But because I’m just hollow,
I don’t even honestly know what I am,
I just know for sure that I’m not nice,

I wonder why I choose nice actions,
Absent mindlessly or not,
I still choose them,
And I know for sure it isn’t because I’m nice,

I think I know, because I’m afraid you’ll leave me if I’m not,
I think I know, because if I’m not nice enough who will care,
I think I know, because I’m afraid to be anything else,
What silly reasons,
Selfish reasons really,
What kind of a nice person would only be nice for personal benefit?
Someone who only acts nice,
Like me,

I think if you knew how much I hated this certain person,
You’d know for sure I wasn’t nice,
I beat up this person daily,
Berating them,
Hurting them,
In a twisted and confusing way, it makes me feel better,
You would too,

I hate this person because they’re a fake,
They’re only pretending to be nice,
They aren’t nice,
Only their actions are nice,
They only act nice for personal benefit,
In fact, they don’t even know what they are,
But they know for sure they aren’t nice,
And I know that too,

If you look closer at this poem,
You’ll see even more why I’m not nice,
Because a nice person is selfless,
A nice person isn’t selfish,
Isn’t trying to drown in their own pity,
Isn’t doing anything I’m doing,
And this entire time I’ve only been talking about myself,

This entire time.

How could anyone believe I’m nice, if I don’t even believe myself?

I find people very interesting,
There’re just so many variables that make someone- well them,

However,
What I don’t like about people,
Is how quickly they judge each other,
Because just someone acts like a bully to you,
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t capable of being nice,
And how some people,
Don’t look more closely at others,

You don’t see how that bully struggles to get a C in any of her classes,
Not because she doesn’t try like you assume,
Or how the bully may be a bully,
But she is still loyal to her friends,
How she choose targets depending on who has wronged her friends,
How in her eyes she see it as justice,

You don’t see that she’s are aware,
She is aware of your hatred towards her,
And she feels like she’s hated,
Even the teachers tell her how rude and ungrateful she is,
So she’ll hate you,

People don’t see how the bully sits alone at lunch,
When her friends abandon her,
Because she’s now known as ‘the bully’,
And you don’t care either,
Because she’s ‘the bully’,
And she deserve that,

You see now that others make fun of her,
Because she’s the bully that’s bullied you,
So she deserves it,
You see how people sneer at her in the hall,
You sneer her at too,
You insult her now,
Because she’s the bully,
And she deserves it,

I wish people would look a bit closer,
And see how others have different dimensions,
How that person,
Isn’t a 2 dimensional card board cut out of a stereotype bully,
But she’s a person too,

Yes,
She may have hurt you really bad,
And this doesn’t excuse her actions,
But she’s just a person too,
One who makes mistakes,
One who has feelings,
And she’s someone that’s sorry,
But she’s a bully,
So she can’t possibly be,

But I really am.