The Bully.

The cold night slowly ends,
A new day breaks,
New souls to squash,
New life’s to darken.

This is what you live for,
Slowly, indirectly killing.
Unseen, unheard,
Silence is your weapon.

Slowly, painfully you stand,
Another day at hand,
A slow sad smile hurts your split lip,
And you groan in pain as you stand.

Last night you and your father,
Started to fight,
Fist in face,
Knee in your groin.

Always you falling,
Always his harsh laugh echoes,
Your pain, his gift.
To his only child.

So today you walk to school,
Slowly, painfully, lonely.
A dark glint of anger in your eyes,
This hard shell your disguise

Slam a door in a child’s face,
Kick the odd bag across the floor,
You look around see those scared faces,
You feel power, strong, respected.

You walk into your classroom,
Late as per usual,
Your teacher frowns, but says nothing,
You sit, tired already.

You’ve stolen someone’s money,
You need it more then them,
You sit alone, your food untouched.
Your alone and hating it.

You stand leave your food at the table,
You watch as heads rise,
You grab a few chips on your way out,
Push over a drink.

The pain of living,
The wanting to die,
Suffering on the inside,
Nowhere to cry.

You walk away from the school,
Your fist clenched,
Misunderstood,
Cold.

Where do you go?
Not home,
Never home,
Anywhere but home.

It’s not really a home,
A place with a tired old drunk,
Messed, soiled, angry,
No love, just hate.

You walk,
Anywhere but home,
You see a bridge,
You walk.

Your stand, look over the edge,
Watch as the small ant sized people,
Walk lost and lonely,
Like you.

You’re stepping over the edge,
They pushed you,
You’re falling,
So fast.

Your death, their freedom,
You gave up,
You can’t fight anymore,
You have nothing left.

But the cold embrace of death,
So lonely,
So cold.
So life your life.