When I go home, I have to think,

That when I'm at school, I can't even blink,

Without being tortured, terrified and teased,

You scare me till I go weak at the knees.

When I'm at school, I sit still and stare,

You're the one who gives me a scare,

I'm the one who's always been picked,

As the weakest so I've been punched and kicked.

It hurts and hurts and wounds deep inside,

Sometimes I think I should throw it aside,

I know I need help but I feel all alone,

It wounds so deep, it cuts my bone.

I don't know why you bully me but it does really hurt,

Is it my looks, my hair, my face or my shirt?

You started this off when we started school,

And I know if you stopped, it would look so uncool.

I think I know why you do,

I think you bully me because you were bullied once too,

But do you think that makes it right,

To bully me even if it isn't spite?

You heart must be made of freezing cold ice,

As you seem so incapable of being nice,

You seem to pick on the weaker and small,

But I think you're weaker; bullying isn't cool.

Have I made myself clear; have you heard me right?

Will you stop being horrid and lock up that spite?

Will treat us as humans, like you are too?

Will you treat us with respect, like we do to you?

The sooner you stop, the better it'll be,

Not just for you but of course for me,

Then I can relax and work really well,

Because at the moment, I'm like a prisoner and you are my cell.