I had bullying nostalgia, and this was the result. Inspired by my own experiences, and sadly, I know, those of others.
They pull her hair,
Because she'll grow some more,
It's not that pretty, so what's it for?
They slap her arm,
Because she won't feel pain,
And she said she'd never cry again.
They call her names,
Because words don't hurt,
At least as much as stones and dirt.
They call her "freak"
Because she knows it's true.
They tell her what she already knew.
They break her heart,
She's not worth a dime,
It'll probably get better, over time.
They lock her out,
Because she likes it alone,
She'll learn to stand up on her own.
They push her down,
Because she doesn't care,
She'll probably just stay down there.
They wish her dead,
Because she's worthless space,
And worse, they have to see that face.
They hate her so,
Because she isn't them,
And for that their job is to condemn.
Her heart is bruised,
Her spirit gone,
She could have stopped it all along.
They come like shadows,
Be they child or man,
They hurt us just because they can.