She stands there sometimes as if made of brick and not bone,
But all I ask of her is to leave me alone,
Is it not simple? Is it too hard?
To give me an apology or write me a card?
The feeble letters of teacher's consent,
Are lies in their solid form, wretched and bent,
How they believe her, is beyond my mind,
She's just another one of the bully kind,
Making other people take the full blame,
They are all wild creatures, impossible to tame,
Spending her days doing what she calls fun,
At the hands of other people, the blood will come to run,
There is no justice, there is never any pride,
Just a innocent crying and a bully smiling wide.

The End

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