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Mansi Nov 1
People will try to belittle
You
Not because
There is something wrong
With you
But because they don't know
How else to feel better
Jessica Sep 10
You said I should write Hallmark cards
You thought my poetry was ridiculous
Acerbically, you mocked my writing
I can still hear your mafiosi laughter
Drowning in your omnipotent villainy
The likes of which floods all areas of your victims’ lives
Aside from having become a cartoon adversary
You’re truly missing out
Not necessarily on my poetry, but literature as a whole
Perhaps that’s a symptom of a waning soul-
To feel and appreciate nothing but the harshest emotions
And none of the heartfelt notions
That help artists’ create their work.
Nobody Sep 7
You never make anyone smile,
you laugh if they cry.
You bring out my anger,
and all of my sighs.
You’re nothing I admire,
and everything I despise.
You’re all stupid and simple,
but think you’re so wise.
You mock the gentle,
then brag about being cruel.
Act like you’re so clever,
but you’re the biggest fools.  
I really can’t stand
tools like all of you.
You’re all basic ugly rocks,
who think they're jewels.
Norman Crane Sep 1
Mud bath
Doc Martens
                        Back of head
Off the beaten path
                        Still beaten
But at least not dead
*******, they said
Don't understand what I did
But was
Drowning in the ground
One day they'll come around
To me

Doc Martens
                        Back of head
Off the beaten path
                        Still,
                        Beate­n
Dead.
Inspired by several news stories about bullying. What struck me was the tragedy of the bullied person coming back, again and again, to the bullies, probably craving attention, perhaps hoping for eventual acceptance, and how that same need (to return, to be accepted) not only intensified the bullying but justified that intensity ("What did he expect? He kept coming back for more!") In the extreme case, the intensification resulted in death. The death itself was seemingly blamed in part on the victim ("Well, he didn't object to us doing X, so naturally we tried X+1. I guess it's sad that X+1 killed him, but all he had to do was [...] and he didn't, so, you know: he didn't save himself.") One of the acts of bullying that struck me was walking on the victim's body, especially across puddles, gravel and mud. I was also surprised by how poorly the bullies were able to explain why they chose their particular victims. Their explanations amounted to: (1) he existed, (2) he existed around us, (3) he kept existing around us despite what we were doing, and (4) he was weird.
Karly Codr Aug 9
It's getting worse.
Whatever positive self-image I had
It's gone
This is what happens
Not going to school for 6 months
I get positive
I don't get made fun of
For being nerdy
Or for what I wear
But school starts on Thursday
And everything is starting to get worse
I hate when school starts. My self-esteem goes down and I hate myself more and more but it's fine. I'm fine. I think.
you know
these matchstick men
inked on wrecked angle blank page
you know these
women con trap
that act on command
because  match stick men
light their fires
more lovingly
if they pick up  that log
bound in the fog and burned
shore lights were on
sea  not at home
see **** thought less
about the other
or the fact shes a mother
of four peeping eyes
with heart shaped by minds
helped less when shes blind
not of your kind
from the other side of the tracks
where we don't got the backs
havenots
got a chance
when we sabotage
her glance
at any semblance of romance
cos we can
I guess thats why they call
you the man
in the know
of how does the garden grow
that they sow
#gonna tell the one who would know
mae May 10
A disheartening thought has come to mind,

"The more the people find the courage to express themselves
and speak their minds,
the more they seem to abuse and misuse it,
losing and leaving their sense of humanity behind."
Mama
Hugs me
Whispering soft letters
That sing together
And let off a gentle glow
They warm me up
And heal my scars

She builds me a sailboat
And I float
Float
Float
Up into cotton candy clouds

She is my sail
She makes smiles creep onto my face
Floating along
My world of haziness
My boat dancing
In the soft breeze
Which caresses my skin
Her whispers singing
Against it

Then I hear splashing
The waves are now rolling
Higher then I can handle
Their insults weaving their way
In and out

Pebbles are tossed at me
Until they are boulders
And my sail is sinking
And my boat is sinking
And I too, am sinking
Down
Down
Down

And now
I drown
In my sea of tears
The waves
Still thrashing me around
And I sift about
Like sand
Letting them
Drag me

I go
In and out
Of school and insults
In and out
Of my home, and warmth
Their words go
In and out
As they settle in my skin
And bleed out of my eyes
Leaving marking on my face
Until I hold onto
Every word they say.
Til I too am a wave
Washing my brain
Filling it with pain
Sifting around in the abyss of my head
I've sunk
This poem is about my own experiences with bullying and how you tend to take what bullies say stronger then what your parents say and I thought I would share it
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