Bullies granted parole

Its twelve o'clock and the clouds are none existent in the sky,
Still inside I feel as though I am ready to die,
Those bully's in year nine are now year eleven,

Today they are leaving,
A school girl who’s mum works in the tuck shop,
Would be satisfied if I stopped breathing,

Her and her friends used to call me all sorts of names,
It was one of there,
Favourite lunch and break time games,

On the way home they pistol whipped,
My head with pop bottles and sweets,
I had no choice but to endure,
As sitting up stairs on the bus on the way home is a no no
Because they set fire to the seats,

In my mind is a video recorder of what they did to me,
It plays over and over again,
My soul still aches from the damage that I did sustain,

Every thought of them shakes my soul with fear,
I write rhymes to express how I feel in my life,
Honestly how I survived that place I have no idea,

When the bully's are around town and I walk past them,
They turn there nose up at me like I am the cause of a bad smell,
Them leaving is like opening the gates of hell,

And let the lord have mercy on my soul,
Now that the bullies have been granted parole,