Rounded shoulders head hung down why do they all make fun of me I am not a clown. Sitting in the row spiteful girls stick their pens in my legs teacher at the front she must never know, she wouldn’t help she treats me like dregs.
Following me nearly home calling me mean names , in the playground I always stand alone they don’t pick me for their games. Opening my desk finding it’s been trashed , my text book been drawn in and my favourite doll has been smashed.
Mum tried her hardest but being the youngest of six my things did not get replaced they just got fixed. My plimsolls were the wrong colour they were black instead of white , I was hauled up on the stage, lectured in front of the school then had to stay on late that night. I just could not make it I could not win with staff and girls against me all I could do was just give in.
I met my boyfriend, and his friends did not like me because I spoke differently, I was from the posh school they though I was rich and had it made so little did they know. When we were out or at a party they were pleasant to my face but if my guy was not there and behind my back the things they said were just a disgrace. They joined the line of teachers and my piers it makes me wonder now how I stood it for all those years.
I am not saying I no friends, no that would not be true. I did have friends and they were good but they were the very few. I always felt so ugly, too fat and too short and if anyone was nice to me I could not believe it what do they want was my first thought.
Things got better when I started work I seemed to come out of my shell like a little butterfly I changed and put aside my days of living hell. They tell you don’t they, school days are the best days of your life , thank God I never listened or I would of ended mine with a knife.
Thank God I grew away from all the pain but sometimes I see a face hear a voice or a name and it all floods back again. I am older now and have all that I could ask for, family and friends but sometimes my calm deserts me and confidence takes flight, fear and dark descends and I feel lost in the night. I ask the question now why children’s jibes and actions can be so mean and cruel. The worse days of my life were my years at school. I cry each time I read or hear on the news how children can hurt each other IT NOTHING LESS THAN ABUSE.
willowdot21 
Sep 09, 2011 @ 20:45:59
Very nice meld of poetry and prose!
Sep 09, 2011 @ 20:57:06
Thank you,
Sep 10, 2011 @ 09:38:04
I too felt my school days were something I’d rather forget, Willow, uttering a heartfelt sigh that it was over and a better life ahead. Some children can be utter devils, and when they see a weakness they go for the jugular. A very descriptive and heartfelt poem …xPenx
Sep 10, 2011 @ 10:03:00
It is something I feel very strongly about , and like you I am so glad to have scrapped through and come out the other side. I left school as soon as was legally possible 15yrs in my case.
Sep 10, 2011 @ 21:14:15
It’s so aweful how cruel kids can be. Fortunetly, there’s more to life than just going to school; it doesn’t determine the type of person you are. YOU determine the type of person you are.
Sep 10, 2011 @ 21:32:24
Thank goodness you are correct. I am glad I have left all that behind me . I hope it has made me stronger.
Sep 11, 2011 @ 10:26:19
excellent thoughtful writing, i always believed school days are the best in my life and all is over now, but after reading this, i might think different. i would have a positive attitude about my future, hope it is bright and that my best is yet to come.
you clearly know how to inspire people with writing. your pen is a powerful tool indeed.
commenting on the article itself, i see the narrator powerfully build a world of despair around her life, slowly how one led to another event of much powerful proportions. many of the readers would relate themselves to the narrator and feel one with the events mentioned. many of us have experienced those in life, like thrash on desk and treated like thrash by peers. once again have to say this is a great article.
Sep 11, 2011 @ 10:33:48
Thank you for understanding I wanted to get across how awful it was, and some of it was too bad to describe but it made me a stronger person and that was another point I wanted to make. I truly believe in the saying “If it does not kill you it makes you stronger” It did not kill me but many are not so lucky. Why are we like we are?
Sep 12, 2011 @ 20:48:36
You touched me, Thank goodness yesterday is gone…and our futures are what we make of it…thank GOD! You’ve done a fantastic job with yours….and you blossomed into a great poet! Indeed!!! X X X
Sep 14, 2011 @ 14:24:46
Very true. It is often that we neglect the moderation of our words. How innocent we feel when we joke and taunt but how deadly is the venom. Thank you for sharing
Sep 14, 2011 @ 14:29:35
Words cut deeper than knives , thank you for reading , I am grateful that it touched you . People need to be reminded.
Nov 17, 2011 @ 21:18:27
Yes, Willow. Every word, letter syllable – true
Nov 17, 2011 @ 21:24:48
I know that was me.
Dec 18, 2011 @ 17:06:52
It is great you managed to pluck up the courage to put into words, your horrific ordeal.
I was bullied at primary school and secondary school and I know how you feel. Sometimes I still get affected by it now, even though I don’t want to.
Thinking positively, in some ways I have become a stronger person and it sounds as though you have to.
Thanks for sharing.
Sandra quirkybooks.wordpress.com
Dec 18, 2011 @ 18:59:30
Hi Sandra thanks for your kind words and for visiting my post you are always welcome. Yes bullying is a terrible thing and it does stay with you for the rest of your life. But I think what does not kill us makes us stronger.
Oct 11, 2017 @ 17:36:04
I understand your experience all too well. I am glad you were able to rise above the bullies and not let them continue to have power over you.
I am still trying — sometimes my worst bully is me and my remembories. I was bullied through out school (always the new kid cuz we moved ALOT), no friends til high school, and even then I didn’t trust that they wouldn’t turn on me.
I was excluded, which is also a type of bullying. And, yes, teachers paid NO attention, tho they knew. I had one call me out in front of the class in grade 2, and that memory is still so clear — it’s hard when the bad memories are the ones that flood into my mind. So painful — like a 4-D surround sound never-ending-loop of a movie.
Bullies wear many faces: teachers, students (at all levels of education), relatives, co-workers, bosses.
I took a boss to human resources for bullying — and though I won, in the end, I lost — it gave me panic attacks I still fight — my panxiety.
Well done to write of your experiences, and to give those who were bullied hope that there is light after the darkness of name-calling, taunting, excluding, starting rumours and whispering campaigns.
May you always be that butterfly. And thanks for writing this!
Oct 11, 2017 @ 17:54:52
Lorraine, like you I have been bullied all my life too, still am. But I won’t be beaten I will not give in. I do admire you you have come so far so have I . We won’t give in now will we. 💜💜💜