Bullies

I must get them back, those words which are mine

Ripped from the spine

Torn and mocked at its sight.

Those precious scribbles that reflect

All that is within, all that I keep hidden

From the others, who mock for joy,

And shred their meaning.

 

Those words were mine, but now rest in tatters

Scattered around me on the floor

No longer making sense, but I remember

What each page read

How each day, I dread

Attending this place, it’s not easy to forget.

The taunts and the name calling hurled my way.

 

They make me wish I was someone new

Not this shell I am use to.

But I don’t know how to be anything but what they see

Surely they must be right? If everyone agrees

Not pretty enough, a Loner!

Capitalised on the pages, inscribed in the brain

A new diary wouldn't make anything change. 

Author's Note

I am just wanting honest opinions :)

Reviews

[emipoemi]

.....and it seems you have really waited long and patiently for such opinions, and let me be the first to in my sincerest honesty, say you - got - skill! You leave me in awe with every poem I read of yours (and what's more is I'm not too too fond of Free Verse, for not many people have actually proven to be good at writing it.......but you have proven yourself a true poet in your ability to write in verse and free). Simply well done!