Sticks and stones as the old saying goes,
by Georgina WilksWiffen
So when cruel words are thrown
We’re meant to forget and grow.
The viciousness that is presented,
To cut you down was what was intended,
So as she pretended
The hurt inside was filed away,
Sitting there and hoping to decay,
Along with the others that were shot her way.
She sang along to the radio
With smile on her face listening to the intro,
She turned it off ready to go.
As she walked into the class
Their eyes cut her like glass,
Her smile faded when they started to laugh.
Her stomach crunched,
When they started to punch,
Every day without fail at lunch
She would lay there and take it
As they would light there cigarette,
The back of her neck is where they would stub it.
She began to feel numb
A ritual she knew she had to come,
And realised it was pointless to run
Chucked around like a rag doll
Was starting to take its toll
So she took a knife,
And cut herself twice
This excruciating pain
Was nothing to what she felt every day.