Their voices sting my ears,
as sky-high ponytails flip at once
only a thin wall, thick as a hair
coerces my tears back

I shoot a remark,
as my hurt overflows,
my hand clenches,
in a restless fist

But I hold back my fury, but
Under my composer I want to show my
Living anger, how cruel they are
Love isn't remote in anyway in them
You could only know if you've been


BULLIED.

How is this girl
even cool? She's not.
Oh, I forgot.
Disgusting, weird-that's her

I tell her to get a life,
her eyes flash,
but who cares?
And she lamely stutters back

But again, who cares?
Under it all, only I matter
Living the popular life
Love is nothing but lipstick
I don't care what normal kids say
Everything goes my way
Dumb idiots, aren't they? My girls are the only NORMAL ones, and I'm not a


BULLY