creativeness

Bully

I do nothing to provoke you
Yet the only thing I can be certain of as I walk warily through the school halls
Is that you are hunting me down
And no matter the route I take, no matter my speed or caution,
You always find me before I reach the freedom of the school gates
You find me and I shrink against the wall
A desperate attempt to disappear
In vain
I am trapped, and I crumple to the ground beneath the sharp stabs of your words, the blows of your fists
I try to block it all out - to ignore the pain - as I watch your retreating figure - blurry through my broken glasses
But as I struggle to my feet, broken and bleeding, and adjust my rumpled, dirty uniform,
I hear the same agonising question that fills my mind every time this happens:
Why me?