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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:03:45 GMT 9.5
post you bully poems here or any poems you like[glow=red,2,300][/glow]
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:04:10 GMT 9.5
The Bully Poem By: Jason Cunningham (3/7/2005)
The bully has no friends, nor respect from you or me. That person is a coward at best, who uses both strength and harsh words to get their way. The actions of the bully are often mean spirited in cruelness, which is impossible to mention by one name.
Causing grief is usually the aim of the bully, that lacks the compassion to see others happy. On the food chain, the bully attempts to impose his or her will upon us, without and recourse or opposition.
The bully is lonely and alone, who rather be happy, but lacks the knowledge to undertake such a task. Yet it is hard to build a solid foundation with someone that finds a way to repulse others. However nothing is hopeless for if corn stalks can grow amongst the weeds, so can the bully find peace to settle the unrest, which plagues their soul.
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:04:30 GMT 9.5
Bullies
Bully me it will hurt I will get angry and upset When you carry on and on I will make me feel left out And feel that I am no baby So stop before it gets worse and worse When you are old you will regret this And it might happen when you are older Stop bullying now and you will never get hurt And your feelings will never be hurt and you will fit right in with the core.
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:04:51 GMT 9.5
do you like bullyes
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:05:12 GMT 9.5
My Poem
It was my first day at school. The second I walked into my classroom people laughed and smirked at me. "You are ugly, you are ugly!" A gang of girls yelled. I felt like I was the odd one out. Then all I had left was my pride. After a few weeks they still laughed and smirked, But after 2 months I fitted in perfect!
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:05:36 GMT 9.5
Explosion!
When I get bullied, I feel like a steam train, Heating up like a rhino, And someone in pain, Like the dark clouds about to rain, Like all the water going down the drain, You think I will turn to ice, But I will explode, You think you are pretty and nice, While I will mould.
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Post by Armed Dragon Lvl 7 on Oct 31, 2006 11:05:48 GMT 9.5
;D
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:05:58 GMT 9.5
Individuality
Treat me mean Treat me bad These are the words that make me mad Stare and point if you want I will be the one to have least Treat me fair
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:06:23 GMT 9.5
Prayers Racist Enemies Judged Understanding Demanding Ignorant Culture (Now I have) Enjoyment
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:06:49 GMT 9.5
BULLY BOY Copyright © 2005 Russell Boyle On the day he arrived, an involuntary shudder rippled through the School. The new boy was clever but unintelligent, assertive and arrogant, controlled, yet strangely vulnerable.
He terrified the students and intimidated the staff. Those who laughed at his fragmented, inarticulate speech were dealt with swiftly and savagely.
Aggression was his sole social strategy. It had worked well for him at other schools bringing him popularity, status, prestige and power.
It was not possible to work with him unless you first agreed to work for him. His memory was long and his propensity for detail, impressive.
He could make students’ lives miserable; he could ruin teachers’ careers. His intemperate words and impertinent actions could taunt, tease, bully, harass and vilify. He was the Deputy Principal.
Russell Boyle
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:07:45 GMT 9.5
"B" is for Brave Chris poked his nose between the curtains. He knew those nasty bullies were out there. Somewhere. A tickle began between his shoulders, and flopped around like a moth. Would they call him silly names again? He wondered. But he still wanted to play outside. He would show them. He would be brave. Yes, very brave on such a nice marshmallow-sky day. First, he put on his fast-as-a-cheetah sneakers. They would help him run away, if he had to. "Better flight than fight," mom said. He was tired of getting tripped when he tried to escape. Even getting 'bopped' on the head. So he had to be a real fast runner. Chris opened the front door. Then tiptoed past his sleeping cat, JC. He squirmed on his tummy across the lawn. Yikes, there's one of those bullies! He almost screamed out loud. It looked like Josh, the one who never combs his hair. And Peter is there, too. He's the leader of the bully bunch. "If I had a nose like that," he said to his mom one day, "they would call me monster." But his mom didn't think that was funny. "Chris!" "SSH!" Chris said to his sister who stood by the front door. "What do you want?" "Mom says I have to take you for a haircut." "Don't yell so loud, Donna," he said. "They might hear you." "Who might hear me?" she asked, walking towards him. "SSSH! Get down! His arms gave this simple message as they flapped up and down. "Those are the boys who tease me," he whispered. Donna laid on her tummy beside her little brother. "Why are you so afraid of them?" she asked quietly. Chris didn't answer. He looked as if he was in pain. And his hands covered his eyes. "I hope they don't see me," he whimpered. Donna was sad to see him so unhappy. Then she noticed something strange. Black clouds began to circle his head. Was he that upset about the bullies? She wondered. Some clouds were darker than others. And others were larger. What should she do? Then she had an idea. Donna shut her own eyes tightly. Her thoughts were about good things to help him. Suddenly, loud noises could be heard. Elephant steps boomed on the sidewalk. And a huge trunk lifted high in the air. It swallowed up her brother's dark clouds. Then the elephant disappeared down the street. More sad clouds appeared above Chris. They floated like huge dark moths. Donna closed her eyes once more. This time a proud deer suddenly appeared. He moved his powerful neck back and forth. Sharp antlers plucked black clouds out of the air. It was almost like catching fireflies. Then the deer leaped past the house. His white tail waved goodbye. Donna squeezed her face once more. Chris could not see what was happening. His eyes remained closed all the time. A wolf came into view. His bushy tail batted away remaining clouds of pain. He bounded around the corner. Finally, Chris stood up. His eyes were red from rubbing. He still had a purpose to accomplish. He must be brave. Mom was counting on him. The barber was waiting. It was his duty to show mom and his sister he was not some little baby. He boldly took his sister's hand. As they hurried to the sidewalk, Chris hoped he could return home in one piece. Suddenly the bully-gang was coming back down the street. There was Josh and Peter. And even Andrew who always called Chris 'baby face'. At first Chris' eyes got really huge. Then he squeezed his sister's hand. He was really afraid. His sneakers wanted to quickly jog away. But he couldn't move. His feet just became part of the sidewalk. Chris tried to build up some steam. No use. "Wait," Donna said. "Everything is going to be okay." Chris knew he had to find a way to be brave. Besides, if he simply ran away, what would his sister think? Peter just stared at him. He wasn't even coming forward to give him a push. Chris kept waiting for name-calling from the others. But they were silent. Josh wasn't usually scared of anyone. But he began to shake like a windy sail. Andrew was the meanest boy in the neighborhood. And he slowly turned and ran away. It was shocking to Chris. He couldn't understand. What was happening? If only he had turned around. He would have seen what the gang of bullies saw. Behind Chris and Donna was the elephant. It sat back on his hind legs. He looked huge as a two-story house. His trunk was raised high in the sky, like a banner. Next to the elephant was the deer. The large buck looked like a picture on a calendar. Points on his antlers gleamed as if waxed. The wolf stood quietly. Bright eyes were like lightning flashes. Thick fur swelled from powerful strength. A gray and white tail pounded nervously. Donna had a smile on her face. It was wide as the sky. She knew what was happening. The bully gang was not able to say one word. Peter, Andrew and Josh had gone. And now the animal images faded away. "Hurry!" Chris yelled as he pulled Donna towards the barbershop.
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:08:20 GMT 9.5
why did you make me suffer? i accepted your differences and offered you friendship you even joined my friends and i during lunch and recess my friends became your friends but then you took them all away from me you drove me out of my home but why? was it because i was different? because i dressed different? talked different? behaved different? i am different...so what?! so are you!
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:08:47 GMT 9.5
School poem - The Bully I and II By Phil 25 August 2006 The Bully I
He stands as tall as a tree, As wide as a rhino. His wrecking ball of a fist Swings into my soft stomach. “You looked at me,” he growls. How I’d love to say, “Get lost, you creep!” Or, “You great hulking idiot!” But I daren’t. He’s bad enough when I’ve done nothing. Just think what he’d be like if I really upset him. Miss says it’s sad he has to hurt people to get attention. I just think it’s sad he hurts people. The thing is, Miss is right. It is sad. He has no friends. Nobody likes him. We only play with him Because if we didn’t he’d get us. But would you be friends with someone like that? He didn’t start hitting us because We didn’t like him, Or he had no friends, Or no one would play with him. He just started hitting us. Then we didn’t like him. Then he had no friends. My dad says I should whack him one. Really hard. But I’d just miss and then he’d really mash me. Mum says I should tell Miss. But that gets him really mad. What’s really sad is that I know what will happen to him. When we get to big school There’ll be some other, Bigger, Tougher, Meaner kid. And then he’ll get bashed. Maybe, me and my mates will enjoy that for a bit. But then, I suppose, he’ll be one of us. One of the nobodies who walk next to the wall, Never put a hand up, Letting people push in. Just hoping to get through the day, Unnoticed.
The Bully II
Monday morning, ten past nine. In trouble already. I wouldn’t have hit Stephen If he let me look at his football cards. I told Miss that. She said, “If we all went around Hitting people when we can’t get what we want, School would be a horrible place.” I suppose she’s right. They hardly ever hit me. Most of them wouldn’t dare. When I do nothing though, They all ignore me. If I don’t barge my way in, That’s it. It’s as if I’m not there. It’s not like I never get it. My dad and brother are always walloping me. I wish I’d not hit Stephen. He’s quite nice really. I wish… I wish… I wish I had a friend.
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Post by Kartracer1 on Oct 31, 2006 11:09:28 GMT 9.5
Bully They annoy me,
They’re pov,
All this is because,
I hate them.
They stink.
You all just may think
That I’m angry,
I’m deluded,
I’m violent and abused,
But basically I want to bash
Steal & cheat, hate & smash.
All you little retards
Who think you are so tough
Wait till tomorrow,
You can’t run fast enough
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Post by Armed Dragon Lvl 7 on Oct 31, 2006 11:10:12 GMT 9.5
wow, lot's of poems.
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