The Good, The Bad, The Bullied

Poem

Dedicated to RubixCube89201

You sit on a corner waiting for the monsters,
They lurked in the shadows and came out in sorrows.
You close your eyes and feel the punch,
The beats they give, the fist of the bunch.

You whimpered and whispered for them to be gone,
But they left you... left you broken and undone.
Left alone to pick up the pieces.
Wounds that won't heal and smiles that's sour like pickles.

You wonder to yourself "what have I've done?"
But you see its not it. Its what you haven't done.
If you look back at the dark and bright memories,
They're just humans like you, built up in calories.

You're the one who put power on their hands.
To kick and punch you.. that's never bland.
To insult you and call you ugly names,
That also reflects on their faces, there parents to blame.

So hurry up and pick up the pieces that we're left,
Don't bring the old but the new and deft.
Stand strong and hold your head higher,
The shadows don't stay in places that's brighter.

The thing you haven't done was to fight back,
So don't let them beat you blue and black.
Stand up! Stand up! Hold your ground.
Because you saw yourself that was almost never found.

Don't slit your wrist for decoration.
It's not art its mental concussion.
Suicide was never the answer,
But it was the survival that makes you stronger.