at every break,
he waits
for me,
i try to mingle
in the crowd,
and slip past
him in the playground.
but he always finds me,
that bastard
that bully.
those horrid words he throws,
and all those violent blows,
then theres the
spitting, pinching, mocking,
and theft,
i am reduced to a wimpering fool,
with no dignity left.
i have asked his why many times,
what have i done to him,
is it the way i speak,
or the colour of my skin.
he never answers,
just stands and laughs,
punches me in the belly,
and pushes me on my arse,
at lunch he takes my dinner money,
and when i beg,
he finds it funny,
i've had my head shoved in the toilet,
and shit rubbed in my hair,
i've told the teachers,
but they dont seem care.
often at home,
when on my own,
i lay on my bed and cry,
i won't let them see me,
i'd rather die.
sometimes i think about,
ending it all,
in the darkness of my heart and room,
sick of this sandess and gloom,
i just want to end this pain,
but its mums face i see,
again and again.
tomorrow i think i will pretend i am ill,
yet i know that wont stop the abuse,
just one more year, and then i am free,
and i can unite this noose.
if those who bully me,
all died tommorow,
i shall not stand and weep in sorrow,
for they have taken away my life,
and force fed me endless strife,
i am not evil,
i have just become bitter.

Not Long Left

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bully-2/