It bubbled and stewed,
Like the slop that they served for lunch.
It writhed and squirmed,
Like a worm worm in two halves.
It shouted and screamed,
Like a child who wants attention.
It cried and wailed,
Like a banshee in the night.
It sulked in the shadows,
Of my infantile mind.
I bubbled and stewed,
When the shouting began.
I writhed and squirmed,
As his hand wrapped around my neck.
I shouted and screamed,
When the chase began.
I cried and wailed,
When the attack had been done.
I sulked into the shadows,
Of my infantile mind.
They bubbled and stewed,
Waiting for the slaughter.
He writhed and squirmed,
As I held him down on the ground.
They shouted and screamed,
Sparking up the fire.
He cried and wailed,
Before the first blow.
It emerged from the shadows,
Of my infantile mind
They dragged me away,
As he lay on the floor, bleeding.
They sat me down,
Stern faces near mine.
I sat, as silent as stone,
While they phoned my parents.
I ignored their gazes and lectures,
As they used the word "bully".
I pulled myself back into the shadows,
Of my infantile mind
