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The Bully
Flowers have petals and so do you
You pick at mine with every word you chew
I ask everyday what if I picked your stem instead
You'd be nothing but squished pollen and torn grass you said
You say i'm nothing but a weed, it's time for me to flee
But you and your army of three will call the bees
I ask you let me be, I plea and plea and plea
But you show no remorse, how could you be so carefree?
My days are coming to an end, i'm starting to sag
I melt closer and closer to the grass
You look down, but for some reason you’re sad
Was I the bully all along?
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I am a sophomore at West Linn High School in Oregon and wrote this in my creative writing class. This poem came natural to me after struggling with mental health for a long time. I wrote it in a couple minutes, only tweaking it a little afterwards because I liked how real it was the first time.