Glareing faces and hurtful jeers.
A punch, made from the fist.
Cries and pleas, hisses and scowls.
Whatever you do simply doesn't matter.
You see him sit through the lessons,
head bowed, a gloom of melancholy like a blanket around him.
You watch the verbal battles,
unhappy but helpless.
You avoid the physical altogether--
rather him than you.
you start to notice the signs.
The gaunt face face,
the lack of food--
you know what he's doing to himself,
just because of those meaningless words.
But what can you do?
And suddenly, you sit up straighter;
an idea unfolds.
You stand up tall, and stride to his table.
You introduce yourself,
ignoring those well-put jabs.
You stand by his side,
and do what you couldn't do mere years ago--
prevent a friend from self-destruction,
because of constant, never ending bullying.