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This poem was written by a Year 9 student 10 years ago and is still referred to during PSHE lessons

May 17th, 2007

The Bully

As I sat on a cold floor,
The bullies walked through the class door.
The look on their faces
As they walked quick paces
And sat behind me.
Why can’t they see
How they hurt me?
Make my life hell.
But they think, oh well,
Do not care.
I feel a stab of a pencil
And a tug at my hair.
I don’t dare
Turn and look to give a glare.
I try to stand tall
As I get higher they make me fall.
I stand tall.  I really try,
But every time I see them
I want to cry.
The whispers and the stares,
All I want is a friend who
Will be kind.
Who like this will I find?
I sound really silly,
But this is life
With a bully.

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