Not A Day

Status: Finished

Not A Day

Status: Finished

Not A Day Not A Day

Poem by: smircle

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Poem by: smircle

Details

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

There are many forms of bullying and each have a lasting effect on the victim. This poem is about cyber-bullying and the feelings of an individual as they go through this daily. This is poem for synesthesia's contest.

Summary

There are many forms of bullying and each have a lasting effect on the victim. This poem is about cyber-bullying and the feelings of an individual as they go through this daily. This is poem for synesthesia's contest.

Content

Submitted: April 13, 2013

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: April 13, 2013

A A A

A A A


Hateful messages

and obvious threats,

do more harm to me

than you'd have bet.

 

I've learnt to live with it,

how couldn't I,

after all these years 

of no one by my side?

 

I dread the mornings

of every week,

no day has gone by

where I've not been a 'geek'.

 

I hate the words

they always use;

they call me a 'nerd',

but why the abuse?

 

The days drag by

like they always will,

even at home

the comments don't still.

 

The small, plastic thing

that sits on my desk

does the most harm to me;

more than the rest.

 

Even though I know

that it will be bad,

that nothing good will come of it

and the result will be sad,

 

I open the top

and power it on,

log onto the source 

of my life gone wrong.

 

Fingers shaking

as I read the words;

'She's such a slut,

A bitch, a 'nerd'.

 

I swallow back the tears

that threaten to come

as I don't fight back

nor do others, none.

 

Shutting the lid

with a shake of my head,

I stand from the chair

and lay on the bed.

 

I've never thought

of taking a life,

of a soul being lost

to the blade of a knife,

 

but now as I lie

on top of the bed

the marks on my wrists

proof of my dread,

 

I can't help but think,

as I trace the scars,

what life would be like

with mine in the stars.

 

I would be safe

away from them all,

if my life was gone,

the end of my call.

 

My head hits the wood

with the noise of a thunk,

and I can't help but think

as I lay on the bunk,

 

why am I victim

of a cyberpunk?


© Copyright 2016 smircle. All rights reserved.

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