School through the Bully's P.O.V 4/15

Everyone looks at me differently.
some with fear and some with pain,
as I pluck the smallest out of the crowd,
to dish out my torment and rain.

They cower whenever I'm close,
afraid of what I soon might do,
they don't know I've been through foster homes,
my real parents I never knew.

They don't know I was never welcomed,
by any family that was truly my own,
and my foster parents only kept me,
cause I'm strong and can help pay the loan.

They don't know I took up fighting,
to protect myself from "dad",
but suddenly it got so I fought at school,
when I was unhappy or when I was mad.

They don't know how they used to laugh,
whenever I welled up in tears,
another smack I would get from "dad",
and no dinner than night just fears.

I only feel like a person,
when I make someone feel worse than me,
I know I really shouldn't,
but I don't do it intentionally.

I've been doing this for so long,
this is the only way I know how to be,
its a constant vicious cycle,
that will never set me free.

Everyone knows my name,
and everyone runs in fear,
as I walk down this empty hall,
wishing I could just disappear.

©
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