but I'm always able to write them down and turn them into something beautiful.
Learn more about other poetry terms
The bullies come from the left and the right.
I know i’m there final target.
Next comes their venomous words.
Like bullet holes.
They make their mark,
I’m kicked back, just chilling out
You walk in the door and every head turns around
I’m at a loss for words, just stumbling around,