Poems about Bullying
with the intelligence of a god,
for whom intelligence is the base,
it would hardly seem odd,
When he made
his first personal appearance
in the dirty alley
on someone else’s rusty bike,
He's a stable smithyThinks his genius words are pithyAs he pounds, pounds, poundsInto the night.
Quick, walk swiftly through the halls.
But not too quick.
Stop, watch your back,
But not for long.
The colors of our world commence the drain,Instead of smiles I perceive pain...Ricocheting off my ears rings pain...