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They spread a rumour,

once,
that I can't tie my shoes,

twice,
that I can't jump rope,

thrice,
that I have fat fingers,


and then I wasn't around to hear it anymore.
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
Messy hair and stained white shirts.
The laughing stock of this tiny stage.
Stare at your feet,
Velcro sketchers covered in sand.
Drown out the laughs with your own internal screams.
Now you wish for that undervalued state of oblivion.
A person once asked
If was a judgement free person
Meaning that I don’t judge people
I say I
Cannot judge people
For I have been judged
Upon
My race
Orientation
And uniqueness
I should be asking that question
Instead
Of the other.
Nicolas Ashbaugh Jul 2020
Please just walk away
He doesn't want you to stay
That golden look
Highlights your undying smirk

Please don't stay long
You know he isn't that strong
Just your presence
Will rob him his weak pleasence

Watch what you say
He goes to bed during day
Not to sleep, but to think
Not to weep, but on the brink

Please don't say that
Is it cool to call him fat?
Want him to cry
While your mind is up there high?

Please, not okay
When you make him feel that way
That is enough
He will never be that tough

Watch what you do
Not everyone can be you
He has a life
Let it not end with a knife

Please do not play
Your the lion with your prey
Please let him live
I do not want him to die
Discussions and recitations are on my YouTube channel Vindex's Vids
Mark Toney Oct 2019
~Dedicated to all victims of bullying, which include girls
& boys of all ages, sizes, and backgrounds.  (That includes me too.)~

Yvonne was very, very, very happy.
She loved her mother.
She loved her brother Phillip.
And she loved swans.
Oh, did she ever love swans!

She loved the way they looked
With their smooth, fluffy feathers,
And colorful beaks of orange, yellow and red.
She would watch them for hours
As they glided over water
In the pond at the park.

Her favorite thing was when two swans
Would get close, ever so close,
Head to head, forming a heart
With their beautiful, curved necks.

Her next favorite thing was
When baby swan cygnets
Would bunch together,
Closely following behind their mother.

She loved swans so much that she
Made a song about them.
Yvonne called it her Swan Song.

“Oh, lovely swan, as you swim in the pond,
Your baby cygnets play—I could watch them all day!
Whatever I do, when I think about you
I wonder if you think about me too!”

Yvonne sang her swan song
All the way to school in the morning
And all the way back home in the afternoon.

Yvonne loved school too.
She was a very good student.  
She studied hard for her tests.
Her grades were very good.
Her teachers were impressed.
Yvonne was helpful to her classmates.
And she was very, very, very happy.

One day a new kid showed up at school.
His name was Harry, and he seemed kinda cool.  
The teacher welcomed Harry to the class
And told everyone to be nice to him.
Harry was a little bigger than most of the kids.
And Harry didn’t smile.  He didn’t say a word.

Harry sat at the empty desk next to Yvonne.
Yvonne was excited about making a new friend.
“Hi, Harry.  I’m Yvonne.  Pleased to meet you.”
“Shut up!” Harry said.  “Leave me alone.”
Yvonne wondered why Harry was so mean.
In fact, he looked rather scary.
“Scary Harry” thought Yvonne.

Every day Yvonne and her friends would try to be nice to Harry.
Every day, Harry would be mean to them.
The only kids Harry liked were the bully kids,
The ones who were mean like Harry.
Harry was bigger and meaner.
Soon all the bullies were following him.

Every day they would pick on different kids.
One day they started picking on Yvonne.
Scary Harry taught his bully friends
An awful poem about Yvonne.  
They would shout it out when Yvonne came to school
And they would shout it out when she left for home too.

“Yvonne sang her swan song
She worked so hard all-day long.
When she came home she fell down
'Cause her legs didn’t have any bones!”

Yvonne was very hurt by their horrible, hateful poem,
And she would cry and run away as fast as she could.
Scary Harry and the bullies would laugh and laugh
And keep shouting it over again and again.

They also made up an awful poem
About Yvonne’s brother Phillip.

“Her brother’s name was Phillip.
He had such big wide hips.
When he tried to drink from a straw he couldn’t
'Cause his mouth didn’t have any lips!”

Yvonne was no longer very, very, very happy,
She felt fear, stress and sadness all the time.
Fear made her not want to go to school.
Sadness made her stop acting like her true self.

She no longer wanted to go to the park to see the swans.
Stress left her stomach in knots.
She found it hard to sleep.
What could she do?  
What would you do if this happened to you?

Yvonne did not want to be a tattletale,
But decided it would be best to tell her mother.
Yvonne told her everything.
About the new kid, Scary Harry, and the bully kids;
About them bullying her and her friends;
About the awful poems about her and Phillip;
About her fear of going to school;
About her sadness over not wanting to see the swans;
About the stress leaving her stomach in knots.
She told her mother everything,
And then she cried and cried and cried.

Her mother wept with her, and when the time was right she asked,
“What do you do when they bully you?”
“I start to cry and then run away” sobbed Yvonne.
“What do you WANT to do when they bully you?”
“I want to hit them hard and make them stop!”

With loving eyes, her mother replied
“Yvonne, I am so sorry for you.  But I know exactly what you should do.”
“Really?” Yvonne asked between sobs.
“Really!” responded her mother.  “Listen closely.”
Placing her hands gently on Yvonne’s shoulders,
Her mother kindly looked into Yvonne’s eyes and said:

“You can beat a bully without using your fists,
If you don’t react to their bullying.  
If you don’t react, the bullies will lose interest.
Don’t retaliate, or be mean to them,
Because that will only add to the problem.
Act confident, don’t be afraid.  
Bullies notice when you’re afraid.

Walk away, don’t run.  
It shows you have self-control,
Something the bullies don’t have.
Don’t walk to school alone.  
Walk with a friend.

Since bullies love secrecy, tell someone.  
Tell a teacher, just like you told me.
Even though you may feel like a tattletale,
You shouldn’t have to face it alone.”

Yvonne hugged her mother long and hard.
She was so happy she had finally told her mother.
“Let’s go to the park and see the swans” her mother said.
Yvonne, her mother and Phillip went, and had a wonderful time.
Yvonne felt like singing her swan song again,
So she sang it loud and strong
In the park by the pond and all the way home.

“Oh, lovely swan, as you swim in the pond
Your baby cygnets play—I could watch them all day!
Whatever I do, when I think about you
I wonder if you think about me too!”

The next day at school,
When scary Harry and the bully kids
Shouted the awful poems,
Yvonne remembered everything her mother had told her.
She even told her friends, so they would know what to do.
And she told her teacher too.

It didn’t take long before the bullying slowed down.
Scary Harry eventually stopped being as scary.
Yvonne was once again very, very, very happy.

She loved her mother more and more each day.
She loved her brother Phillip.
She loved her school too.
And she loved swans.
Oh, did she ever love swans!
4/24/2018 - Poetry form:  Narrative - This poem is dedicated to all victims of bullying, which include girls & boys of all ages, sizes, and backgrounds. (That includes me too.) - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2018
Mark Toney Oct 2019
I jumped on my bike as fast as I could
but not fast enough, it did me no good
the bully kid was big and mean and acted very tough
laughing all the while he quickly knocked me on my duff

Rubbing grass in my mouth, slapping me in the face
him laughing at me, me feeling so disgraced
he punched me so hard then left me crying on the ground
I slowly stood up, was there anyone else around?

I gathered up my books and slowly climbed on my bike
and pedaled straight home mustering all of my might
"What happened to you, son?" Mom was the first to see
I cried as I replied "I got beat by a bully!"

"I'm so sorry for you son, I'm so sad that you were harmed"
just then my dad walked in and immediately looked alarmed
Dad quickly asked me "Son, did you give him back the same?"
I sheepishly said "no" re-experiencing the shame.

My dad just stared awhile then said "I don't like what you're becoming.
Next time you better fight, give the bully what he's got coming!
First you punch him in the stomach then you hit him in the face
He won't hurt you any more, when you put him in his place!"

I slowly nodded as he left, then Mom quickly gave my cheek a kiss
"I'm so proud of you son for not fighting him with your fist
The Lord's servant doesn't need to fight but should be gentle instead"
"Yes ma'am" I quickly said as conflicting counsel twirled round my head

The next 5 years at school when tensions flared I was a gentle talker
as a bully approached my sophomore year I threw him against his locker!

Thank you Mom and Dad!
10/2/2019 - Poetry form:  Couplets - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
leyana Jul 2019
I must really get under your skin
Maybe that's why you are mean
Why don't you give it a rest?
Am I really a pest?

I am not insecure
You have a heart that's unpure
They call me a *****
It broke my heart, now it can never be stitch

They say, "you're full of crap!"
PLEASE MAKE IT STOP
But, you can never bring me down
Nor make me frown, not anymore

I know I'm going to be a star
So, thanks for giving me this scar
Please bury yourself in the tar
And watch me as I drive my fancy car
I wrote this poem 2 years ago to show sincerity to all the bully victims like me. Please help me stop bullying everywhere especially at schools to help lessen the suicide cases of young kids and teenagers.
Sarah Quinn Mar 2019
I'm five feet of
stubborn kindness
and crippling self-doubt
and barely-controlled havoc.

That's more than enough to knock down
your six feet
of self-proclaimed
douchery.
Sophia Chang Jun 2016
The perfect manicured hand of a *****'s
slap slap slapping
The raw red skin on my cheeks

The short pink skirt from hell
swish swish swishing
Against the long tan legs of evil

The shiny glinting blade of steel
slice slice slicing
The long green veins on my skin

The pure dark red of blood
drip drip dripping
On the crisp clean white of the bathroom tiles

The big hard hand of my mother's
bang bang banging
The heavy frosty door of solitude

The loud sharp voice of my father's
ring ring ringing
In the nooks and crevices of every corner

The ******* bird of night
hoot hoot hooting
on the thick grey gravestone of mine
{24.06.16}
Don't be a bully, it ends more than just a life.
It ends faith in humanity.
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