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Anti Bullying Poems

News and Events Archive > Anti Bullying Week 2009

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This is a selection of poems written by childrenís writers on the issue of bullying.


I Am


I am the person you bullied at school,
I am the person who didnít know how to be cool,
I am the person you alienated,
I am the person you ridiculed and hated.

I am the person who sat on her own,
I am the person who walked home alone,
I am the person you scared every day,
I am the person who had nothing to say.

I am the person with hurt in her eyes,
I am the person you never saw cry,
I am the person living alone with her fears,
I am the person destroyed by her peers.

I am the person who drowned in your scorn,
I am the person who wished she hadnít been born,
I am the person you destroyed for Ďfuní,
I am the person, but not the only one.

I am the person whose name you donít know,
I am the person who just canít let go,
I am the person who has feelings too,
And I was a person, just like you.

(This poem was written for the BEAT BULLYING ad in the UK and narrated by celebrity sports people.)

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REMEMBER ME ?


REMEMBER ME?
I AM THE BOY WHO SOUGHT FRIENDSHIP;
THE BOY YOU TURNED AWAY.
I THE BOY WHO ASKED YOU
IF I TOO MIGHT PLAY.
I THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
WHEN YOUR PARTY WAS INSIDE,
I THE LONELY FIGURE
THAT WALKED AWAY AND CRIED.
I THE ONE WHO HUNG AROUND
A PUNCHBAG FOR YOUR GAMES.
SOMEONE YOU COULD KICK AND BEAT,
SOMEONE TO CALL NAMES.
BUT HOW STRANGE IS THE CHANGE
AFTER TIME HAS HURRIED BY,
FOUR YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE THEN
NOW IíM NOT SO QUICK TO CRY.
IíM BIGGER AND IíM STRONGER,
IíVE GROWN A FOOT IN HEIGHT,
SUDDENLY
IíM POPULAR
AND
YOUíRE LEFT OUT THE LIGHT.
I COULD, IF I WANTED,
BE SO UNKIND TO YOU.
I WOULD ONLY HAVE TO SAY
AND THE OTHER BOYS WOULD DO.
BUT THE MEMORY OF MY PAIN
HOLDS BACK THE REVENGE
IíD PLANNED
AND INSTEAD, I FEEL MUCH STRONGER
BY OFFERING YOU MY HAND.

By
Ray Mather

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My Walk to School

Fist punch.
Foot crunch.
Hand hit.
Mouth spit.
Eye swells.
Canít see.
Please,
Please,
Let me be.

Rips my homework.
Steals my money.
Grabs my lunch.
Thinks itís funny.

I wonít tell, I swear I wonít.
Please donít do that. I said ďDonít!Ē

Sticks and stones may break my bonesÖ
Sissy
Prissy
Four-eyes
Geek
Fatso
Stupid
Nerdy
Freak
Öbut names can really hurt.

Through the doors.
Up the stairs.
Face is bloody.
No one cares.

In the washroom.
Clean up the mess.
Iíll be safe
Until Ö recess.


By Andrea Wilson


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My Mom and Me

It used to be Iíd hop out of bed,
So eager to start my day.
But times have changed. I ask my mom,
ďCan I stay home from school today?Ē

I find a lot of grounds,
To justify my stance.
I plead, I beg, I frown,
I do a little dance.

ďMy ears, they ache. My tummyís sore.
ĒI blow my nose and cough some more.
ďWhat are these spots upon my chest?Ē
I wheeze. I sneeze. I do my best.

My Mom sits down beside my bed.
ďYou are not sick.Ē I turn bright red.
I know she hates it when I lie.
Sheíd understand if she knew why.

So should I tell her of my woes?
And will it change things if she knows?
I fear sheíll only make things worse.
If I donít tell her, I think Iíll burst.

And so I tell her of the clique.
The girls who say that Iím a ďgeekĒ.
I tell of giggles,
The whispers,
The rumors.
I talk of their spite,
They cruel sense of humor.

And Ö

It feels so good to vent.
Although itís so private.
I talk and talk.
My Momís very quiet.

She says to me gently,ď
Iím terribly sorry.Ē
We hug and we cry.
We go over my story.

Together we look at the things we can do.
Iím no longer alone; we have a plan too.
I think I can face being teased and harassed.
With Mom on my side, my power is vast.

by Andrea Wilson


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Canít you take a joke, kid?

Look, I was only teasing.
Címon, itís all in fun.
You got no sense of humor?
Arenít
we the touchy one!

But I donít find it funny.
I guess I missed the joke.
Thought if I say that outright,
Theyíll laugh until they croak.

Hey! Canít you take a joke, kid?
Are jokes supposed to hurt?
I fail to see the humor.
You called me ďstupid jerkĒ!

My! Your skin is awfully thin.
Stop getting so perturbed.
Hello! We all have feelings!
I guess you havenít heard.

What side did you get out of bed?
Why canít you let me be?
Because youíre really fun to bug.
Itís awesome, canít you see?

Could be you find it funny.Perhaps you cannot learn.
But history has a nasty way,Of making it
your turn.

by Andrea Wilson

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Donít carry the burden aloneÖÖÖ tell someone.

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