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Matthew Randell May 2015
He's quiet in class,

Sits at the back,

Never put's his hand up,

Friends he does lack,

On his way to lessons,

And before school,

He's beaten to a pulp,

He spits blood and drool,

Every day he runs,

Faster and faster,

Trying to escape,

His self-proclaimed master,

Scared to roam the playground,

Scared of having fun,

Hopes it will get better,

But they've only just begun,

Eveything is better now,

He's laughing, playing games,

No more bullies in the school,

To tease him, call him names,

He decided to tell a teacher,

And then he told his dad,

Went to the head,

Said it made him really sad,

The school rang the police,

And had the bully arrested,

They took him away in handcuffs,

The one who had molested,

His gang disappeared,

Without a trace,

For they had no leader,

They had no ace,

Everybody cheers,

Fans of the Victim,

Some guy has hit a teacher,

Now in one foul swoop he's knicked 'em,

— The End —