alone today and im crying,
though why i still bother beats me..
its been long since i first did discover,
that this playground just isnt for me.
you can point,
you can laugh,
in your cruelty,
why you do,
well i never have known,
do you think that its just common practice,
to pick on what to you is unknown?
i see you,
yes i watch,
and wonder,
what its like,
how it feels to "belong",
to be one of the lucky, "big" people,
who have things and wear nice brand new clothes,
and each day,
as i face you,
i stiffen,
and my insides crawl into a ball,
and i wait for the torment and listen,
for the words and the sickening calls.
is it me,
do i make you harass me?
do i make it ok to be harmed?
is it just in my nature to be hurt,
am i meant for more than just this harm?
you push me,
you prod and you poke me,
you sneer at my shabby old clothes,
you laugh and you joke as i suffer,
and you love when my weakness is disclosed.
could you feel all this pain,
o i wonder,
do you see just have far i've been sent?
if you'd seen all the wounds that i covered,
perhaps your anger and hate would be spent.
yes i cut, and i bled from your harsh words,
and i emptied myself of my food,
and i cried as i tore through my own flesh,
tried to burry this hurt in my wounds.
but i'll face you again in the morning,
though the thought in itself makes me fret
and i'll spend my whole day in a corner,
where your harsh words will hide from regrett.
though why i still bother beats me..
its been long since i first did discover,
that this playground just isnt for me.
you can point,
you can laugh,
in your cruelty,
why you do,
well i never have known,
do you think that its just common practice,
to pick on what to you is unknown?
i see you,
yes i watch,
and wonder,
what its like,
how it feels to "belong",
to be one of the lucky, "big" people,
who have things and wear nice brand new clothes,
and each day,
as i face you,
i stiffen,
and my insides crawl into a ball,
and i wait for the torment and listen,
for the words and the sickening calls.
is it me,
do i make you harass me?
do i make it ok to be harmed?
is it just in my nature to be hurt,
am i meant for more than just this harm?
you push me,
you prod and you poke me,
you sneer at my shabby old clothes,
you laugh and you joke as i suffer,
and you love when my weakness is disclosed.
could you feel all this pain,
o i wonder,
do you see just have far i've been sent?
if you'd seen all the wounds that i covered,
perhaps your anger and hate would be spent.
yes i cut, and i bled from your harsh words,
and i emptied myself of my food,
and i cried as i tore through my own flesh,
tried to burry this hurt in my wounds.
but i'll face you again in the morning,
though the thought in itself makes me fret
and i'll spend my whole day in a corner,
where your harsh words will hide from regrett.
Author notes
this.. is just a quick spilling or venting of hurt coming back from my childhood... nothing really structured, will be going back over it, any CONSTRUCTIVE suggestions, feel free to share 
Comments
-
touching
what I have found is that the truly weak people are the ones that seek to push others down. They are the ones with the low self-images. So, my friend, why would you let someone who doesn't believe in themself bring you down as well? YOU are a child of God, a mighty warrior, a humble servant... and a talented writer. I would change the "u"'s to "you"s, it would look more polished. - Kevin
-
-
:)
thankyou so much for your comment, and the suggestion!must have overlooked the "u"'s..i get kinda caught up in my writing at times lol
-
-
Rach, i dont really know what to say to this.
Bullies are everywhere in life and it doesnt matter what we do to try and avoid them, they'll always be there.
Just remember that, its whats inside that counts and not what is seen on the surface.
All the best to you, always
Ken




