Bulling at School .

Just because I am not the same
Is fair that I’m the butt of their game. Every day I dread  school
Because it is always me that they treat cruel.

OH! I hate each and every break   That’s when my loneliness over takes.
It is no fun to be the one everybody picks on,
They mock me with voices singsong.
Rip my clothes and trash my books
All through class they give me dirty looks.

Sometimes they follow me home, Why won’t they just leave me alone.
It doesn’t stop there, not all.
As soon as I get in they start to call and send texts to my phone. Swearing taunting calling me names They enjoy playing these games.

I tried to fight back I tried to reason  But I can’t do anything to please them.
I tried to tell the teacher but she was not listening
So they shoved my head down the toilet and gave me a christening!

I feel that it cannot get worse 
Then someone goes and takes my purse.
For fun and good measure they give me a hearty beating
Leaving me bruised and bleeding.

Sitting here in the hall crying
No one stops or cares that I feel I’m dying.
So I walk home hurt and grieving 
All hope gone nothing left to believe in.

Mum and dad, have done their best.
They’ve begged the school to ask the gang to give me a rest.
Every day it is relentless it goes on and on.
Nothing happens nothing is done
They hurt me and think it’s fun.

I have had enough I can’t go on, Harassment on my laptop has now begun.
Another way for them to torture me
I can’t stand it, let me be.
“NO YOU BASTARDS I have had enough
I will not take anymore of this stuff.
I have got a piece of strong rope
I have written you all a neat note.
So round my throat I knot this rope 
I am sick of you all I really cannot cope.
Sorry Mum and Dad dont cry
You did your best, I love you ….bye.

~~~~~~~~

Children are now bullied so badly at school even when they get home they cannot escape because the bullies abuse them via, their phones and computers. What have we become when our children can hound each other to suicide just because they look or act or speak differently?

Another poem for Child Abuse Awareness Month.

MMMM. GIRLS LOVE DIAMONDS?

Good morning and welcome to MMMM . This week’s these is freefall and it’s whatever music moves you or me or all of us!

This week I am going to showcase Welsh singer Marina and the Diamonds, her songs are all strong womens songs with good strong positive messages. What I like about Marina is that you can still her Welsh accent, gentle as it is, when she sings. So let’s start with my favourite song by her. I am not a Robot.

Marina Lambrini Diamandis (/ˌdiːəˈmændɪs/ DEE-ə-MAN-diss; Greek: Μαρίνα-Λαμπρινή Διαμάντη, romanized: Marína-Lampriní Diamánti; born 10 October 1985), known mononymously as Marina (often stylised in all caps) and previously by the stage name Marina and the Diamonds, is a Welsh singer and songwriter.

Born in Brynmawr and raised in Abergavenny, Diamandis later moved to London to become a professional singer, despite having little formal musical experience. In 2009, she came to prominence upon placing second in the BBC‘s Sound of 2010. Her debut studio album, The Family Jewels (2010), incorporated indie pop and new wave musical styles. It entered the UK Albums Chart at number five and was certified gold by the British Phonographic Industry. The album’s second single, “Hollywood“, peaked at number 12 on the UK Singles Chart. Diamandis’ second studio album, Electra Heart (2012), was a concept album about a character of the same name. The album explored electropop and dance-pop and became her first number one album in the United Kingdom. It was certified gold in the US and UK, and respectively produced the successful singles “Primadonna” and “How to Be a Heartbreaker“.

more information at Wiki

Here is my playlist of the Family Jewels.

Monday’s Music Moves Me is sponsored by Marie, Cathy, Alana, and Stacy, so be sure and visit them, where you can also find the Linky for the other participants.

Have boogylous week 💜💜

Hush Little Baby

Can’t you stop that child crying he is doing my head in! He goes on and and on incessant crying there’s no bloody peace and that smell gets in to your skin.

Shut up! Shut up!! will you shut up your driving him up the wall. You scream, he nags the blame’s always laid at my door. You won’t eat you won’t sleep shut up I don’t know what to do at all! Stop, Stop my head hurts , now look I’ve knocked you to the floor.

Be quiet, be quiet, ssh! he really needs his rest . He has to be up up for work he doesn’t realize I am doing my best. Here drink this bloody bottle ..what now is it too hot ! Okay, okay if you don’t want to feed you can stay there in your cot!

Be quiet, please please be quiet will you settle now , stop stop !! If you don’t let me change this nappy I just won’t bother …….. now. OH! for goodness sake will you stop that noise why can’t you be like other babies bundles of cooing joys?

ARRRRRGH! I can’t take it any more shut your bloody noise stop, stop I am sick of you………… there  that shut you up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Covering up her baby the young woman walks away, silence, golden silence she has not had that for days. Memories flood in to her head, her mother screaming at her, screaming in her face and being hungry and cold in her bed.

The vows she made the love she craved, the mistakes she’d said she’d never make. OH! no she’d been just like her mother again she’d shouted at and hurt the babe. But what was she to do. She has no idea of what to do with a baby, three of them in this squalid, two room flat, living hand to mouth would drive anyone crazy.

She goes back in the room the baby is silent still. Yet he does not look right …. something does not look good is he breathing ? It is hard to see in this light. Bending down she picks him up …ah! yes at least he is breathing . Gently now and quietly she takes him into their room her boyfriend’s asleep  now she prays that neither will stir for any time soon.

There is dirty washing everywhere, the cupboards are bare of proper food she sits there hugging baby tight ( too tight) silver light from the TV flickers and to it she is glued.

Where is the help these children need where is the help they were promised. It is quiet now but that will not last, will someone take away their baby and will these older children be admonished . Will some one end the circle of abuse.

Sadly the abused can become abusers.

Another Poem for Child Abuse Awareness Month

Sad Lost Dolls.

Yes she is a beautiful child she has that look of innocence that drives men wild. She could make a fortune it is true but is it really the right thing to do.

She will love it all the fuss, the travel the treats the complements from all she meets. There is a future in photo modelling  for her she has that presence that maked all who see her stare.

What if she falls into the wrong hands there’s plenty out there who will misuse  her beauty plenty who have nasty plans. No she will be fine no harm will come to this child of mine.

“Mummy , mummy can I go and play?” no my sweet not today. “Please mummy I want my friends to stay!” no you have work to do, send them away. “Please mum can I go to school I want to be with people my age I want to learn and play the fool.”  “No we have a teacher for you, there are adverts and film work for you to do.”

“Why can’t I have friends around that are my age I don’t the like photographers they rant and rage.” ‘No I told you you are special your very precious. You don’t have time to skip and play face it sweetie  your looks won’t last and you’ll be too tall one day!”

We should get a couple more years fame at this rate we are clawing in the money she has time to be young later she can wait. Sadly that’s not true her childhood  robbed and she becomes sad and blue.

Slowly all her ties get cut  her friends grow few she is neither child nor adult too. The lines of age soon get blurred is she thirteen or twenty three and a third?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another form of abuse not quite so obvious but just as dangerous. The parents live their dreams and missed opportunities through their children. Not all but some, child models, child actors, child beauty queens loose their childhoods. They feel no worth unless they are being complimented . They are not balanced, being deprived of growing up through a childhood. Basically they are used as much as if they have been sold in to slavery.  Sad little lost dolls. A poem for Child Abuse Month.