I
thought when
I first wrote

Poetry
it was
the release of

Woe
in me,
but for awhile

I
see my
style and who

I
write for
my audience of

One,

but,

Bullies,
pull the woolies
over eyes that sheepishly
turn away, look away, look away,

I had a teacher once who that
thought by giving me D's and
E's in English and jokingly
add in front of the class...

"Hey Elverum you got one
of your two initials, wanna
hazard a guess?"

When I was in
the Army,
had an MWO,
who was nick
named the Wicked
Witch of the West,
as his features
made you feel
like Dorothy, in
the Land of Oz
and because "there's no place like home"
                       "there's no place like home"
                       "there's no place like home"

So
it is
with sad attention

I
see there
is a bully

Here,
here, said
the judge, jury

So
there should
be, because poetry

Is
not about
the freedom of

Expression,
through speech,
it is about

Grading
and wizardry
and being numero

Uno
a legend
in his own

Mind
my manners
mind my tongue

Words
that are
spit like salvo's

Not
marshmallow's with
hard hearted centres

Poetry
is meant
to be read

If
I ask
for your critique

Would
you send
me a bill

Or
just your
ill will, toxins

Instill
your commanding
presence on the

Young
and the
new, who dare

To
bad mouth
you, your just

One,
how does
it feel to

be
so alone
like the sound

of
one hand
clapping as you

dashed
another soul
to the rocks

below
the belt
with svelte wit

But
alas, I
only write for

An
audience of
one, you ain't

IT.