BULLYINGEach waking days a struggle,
As you climb out of bed.
There's no release from life,
When you wish that you were dead.
Hated memories of the past,
Floating through one's mind.
Future memories waiting, For
the passing of past crimes.
Remembering how it might have been,
If you had done that or this.
Recollections of skinning knees,
As well as your first kiss.
Instead only nightmarish dreams of beatings,
Hoping that your life would end.
All you ever wanted was to be left alone,
Then just maybe someone as a friend.
Would you go out to seek revenge,
Being beaten black and blue.
Only hate left inside;
I have no wish to hurt you,
I just wish wish that I have died.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2021-09-21 at 12:31
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