It takes one person to make a friend.
It takes a group of people to make foes.
Makes friends, not foes.

Stand up for people that is getting bullied,
Make that person feel like someone is there,
Don't make them feel lost.

A new student at school,
Be nice to them,
Don't make them feel like a fool.
Make friends, not foes.

One bad comment can hurt someone,
One false rumor can make someone lose their
friends,
One good comment can make someone
feel good,
The truth makes people relies the truth.

Always make friends, not foes.
Have real friends, not fake.
Tell the truth, not rumors.
Believe the truth, not rumors.
Make friends, not foes.

No one cares enough
to even glance at the way
she stands slumped,
incommodious. Wise,
little girl, that you show
no fear of those who try
to quibble you. They will try to be
however demanding they can.
They must be able to see
the cicatrix of distress they cause.
The withdraw of people eliminates
the blissful, mirthful way of life.
Do not bother to notice the
sorrow she carries from the lack
of shoulders to cry on.
The tear soaked pillows of late night
cry's so deep within the soul;
the muffled sobs of desperation from
the absence of an individual.
Life-long abstraction.

What makes a Bully?
*Perhaps they to were had a Bully
Or maybe its for self esteem
Or maybe to be mean
Does it matter why?
"No, not to you. You can't think past a fly"
"To me it does, for I have a heart"
No just tear me apart
Why? To make yourself feel more important?
We Bully in a cycle fueling there fire
Do we ever tire?
Can we not think with our hearts?
Or are we still neanderthals with fists apart
Please try to understand
For there is only one land
Let our hearts sing in with friendship
Before we start this forever tearing relationship
So I ask you now if you wood
Perhaps consider brotherhood?

Not so long ago
In a land closer than it seems
There lived a silly little girl
With a pocketful of dreams

She was as hated as was loved
It didn't matter what she'd done
But the one thing that she knew
Was that she hurt everyone

Too fat and too ugly
Too judgmental and a fool
She could never just be perfect
And society was cruel

It carried on for years
And nobody could decide
Whether this silly little girl
Should get to live or die

So the leader told his people
That something must be done
And the poor thing should be dealt with
So it couldn't hurt anyone

At first there was denial
But the number quickly bloated
Soon even the voice of mother
Left the situation quite outvoted

But when asked ''who would do it?''
As the people shouted blame
Not a single one would volunteer
And hung their heads in shame

A tiny voice right from the back
Suppressed by a nation's shouts
Announced that she could do it
No longer harbouring any doubts

Every single citizen watched
As a blade was drawn with care
The girl aligned it to the heart
To breathe she didn't dare

Instantly her dull eyes closed
A single push was done
Hushed whispers silenced throughout the land
Watching her smiling tear drops run

When mother found her in the morn
Dried tears still on her face
She knew with greatest certainty
She was not in a better place

How hopeless she was lying there
With blood on the bedroom floor
The only thing to take comfort in
They couldn't hurt her anymore

Mother watched the coffin
Now the girl was quite stone dead
Such a pity, society sighed
That the land was within her head.

Take heed of this done story
For the many who ruin themselves
Though words might seem so innocent
Our worst critics are ourselves