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Half the population are bullied ... most only recognize it when they read this

Testimonies from survivors of bullying

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The Illustrated Tigress of Raynes Park
by
Andrew Taylor


Justice, I await thee, but will anyone listen?
- Psycho torture

Get back at the perpetrators ……ers they remain
Did this to fulfil their needs, but they do not feel my pain?
Bullying, victimisation, racism is a practice, that should not be allowed but these people operate a buddy system, I know they feel proud.
“Whimsy” frightens the Civil Service with a red pen,
Chuckling away; and away again, squawking like a frustrated hen.
(That she is)
“Dimsey’s” a weak failure
An accomplice in her own right
Failure to recognise, listen, act, and to do something to remove to my plight.
- Why? Was she afraid of the Whimsy?
The psycho torture inflicted upon me
Ten months they had to humiliate me
- Why? To remove my dignity?
NEVER! Even though they challenged my sanity
They knew the rules of engagement -
Only after a year then I could challenge them at a Tribune
And through Employment Law make a difference to their tune.
Derision, condescension, and power, by their management my brain they undertook
To became a blank canvas, my mental stamina they shook
Till, not a sentence in my defence I could write
-in defence of my plight.
Yet; feel the pain and the grinding suffering that I took
Why and why again did I feel - I do not understand
- I did not have to take
Why? because I believed that proper justice would prevail in my fate
The psychological scars whipped upon me
Even now, I’m still having medication for the psoriasis scars
inflicted on me.
At night, in my dreams, I relive the experience and still shake
In the morning I can’t find the answers to questions, after two years I await
(but won’t get)
Remember me, as the one that questioned their action
They will, when justice catches them, be sanctioned.
Yet, when just deserves reaches them they will never show repentance
They will never know what it is like, when stress prevents you from
writing a sentence in your defence
Victimisation, Bullying and Racism, their code must break
Till they know the suffering I, and others still have to take
-as a result of the experience.
Nevermore, nevermore, should anyone have to feel
The victimisation, bullying, and suffering they make
Witness’s, there is action that you must do
Record the incidents, report the incidents before it happens to you
Victims join the Union, get help, and do something before its too late
Else, like me you will suffer the same fate
- of establishment excuses and failure to relate
And to be left as what? – an individual, still struggling to try to move on
A victim, with much vehemence when will justice listen to my song?
Justice I await thee, but will anyone listen?


The dangerous people are not the ones
Who hit you with clubs or rob you with guns;
The thief won't attack your character traits
Or belittle your abilities to your face.
It's likely to be a 'well-meaning' friend
Who merely crushes your will to win.
No, he doesn't rob you at the point of a gun -
He simply says: "It can't be done!"
When pointing to thousands who already are
He smiles and says: "Oh they're superior!"
Personality-wise and ability too,
They're way ahead of what others can do.
It matters not that his words are untrue,
For you feel others must know you.
So you're robbed of your dreams, your hopes to succeed,
Robbed of material blessings received,
Robbed of your faith that says "I can!",
And robbed by an ignorant gunless friend.
So the deadliest of men is not he with the gun,
But the one who tells you it can't be done -
For that taken by burglars can be gotten again,
But who can replace your will to win?

Anon.


Teachers and lecturers are the largest group of callers to the UK National Workplace Bullying Advice Line. The following poem is by an ex-teacher with 27 years' experience whose successful career was terminated by relentless bullying from senior staff.

Teaching

What joy I've felt as pupils thrived and grew.
What pleasures that I've helped them on their way.
To be a member of a happy team,
Indulging in its roguish repartee,
Has been enough to energize my soul.
Imagine them; the sadness and the grief,
The sense of failure, feeling of despair,
When all my skills, my expertise, my all,
Were set aside.
No longer in the team as I once was,
But subject to abuse, to threats, to jibes,
To cruel comments, negative remarks,
Until my self-esteem just ebbed away,
What had I done to merit such abuse?
Why was I so despised and put to scorn?
I'll never know. I'll never be the same
Again. But life goes on.
Yet all its pleasures, once so much enjoyed,
Are not for me.

© Fay Fielding, Yorkshire, UK


Here Endeth the Last Lesson

Put another nail in the coffin
Let's finish the job right once and for all
And come the revolution
With the ultimate solution
We might as well be propped up near the wall

We've already given hearts and minds and bodies
And we've written words in blood and sweat and tears
Now we're told That's not enough
Though it might be clever stuff
And it's based on the experience of years

We often read there are no proper teachers
That standards fall much faster than the pound
Let's just nod and say "I know!"
'Cos I've seen some good ones go
And soon there won't be any left around

I've seen forests cut down, turned to papier maché
Models of administrative style
And the more obscure it seems
It appears in reams and reams
With proformas which fit neatly in the file

I've carried the whole impact of curricula
In folders which have caused my legs to bend
And these weighty tomes imply
That before the ink is dry
There'll be plenty more before you reach the end

I can't take these bureaucratic impositions
My professional integrity's at stake
And I can't even acquiesce
To this political excess
Sometime soon there has to be a break!

A vision of the future or a nightmare?
The reality of education's state
It doesn't matter what it means
If it's not written in your schemes
In long term plans it's already far too late!

So, resigned to write my last few words of wisdom
I might welcome my hard earned P45
Then I'll join the privileged class
Where White Papers wipe my a**
And reflect upon when dreams were once alive!

Teaching by numbers

1,2,3,A4.
Can't put up with any more!
It's a problem; make a start,
Write it on the 'flipping chart!
Brainstorm buzzwords, if you can;
Prioritise them.... Action Plan!
Rewrite all the I.E.Ps
Don't forget the children, please.
With so much progress going on
We must be doing it all wrong!
Teaching's now a paper chase;
Society's Inhuman Race.

ODE TO YOURSELF

What is this life if, full of care
We have no time to wonder where
The day, the week, the term have gone ?
Ten years or more have thundered on !
Each hour pressed with urgent need;
Each minute stressed, no second freed
To just say STOP !
Slow down,
unwind !
Let nature rule your heart and mind.
Here, too, let nature take it's course;
Don't put your body through such force.
Under pressure constantly,
Reflect on how things ought to be.
Whilst you, this moment, wait and sit,
Relax, enjoy.......and relish it !!!

ON BEING MISLED
(by an inept boss leading us to becoming a "failing school")

"At times like this," the Captain said,
"I'm sure we're all at sea!"
"That's true!" I cried
And he replied
"Just trust and follow me.............!!!"

© Sid
(still employed so can't give his full name)


What do I think about the way I've been treated,
the stuff that's been given, the dose that they've meted?
Where do I start with this tale of woe
one thing's for sure I've nowhere to go.
It pervades all my thoughts each waking minute
pulls me apart, drains my spirit.

The story began some months past
I applied for a job, pharmacy recognised at last.
Working with colleagues, doctors and nurses
using my skills, knowledge and experiences.
Better than standing, day in and day out
behind the white bench, I had no doubt.

The interview complete no doubt was weighed
but soon it was clear, their decision was made.
I was perfectly matched, for the job in hand
but they brushed me aside, I was to be banned.
"Why was this" I asked, on the 'phone that day
Financial standing or something, I heard her say.

That was it, done and dusted, from their point of view
tossed aside, decided, not part of the crew.
but did they assume, at that it would rest
justice is now my simple, enduring quest.
to show those in power, to quick to dismiss
that this is one person, they'll never oppress.

The law has been called to assist my campaign
to seek and disclose those I must blame.
Was it an act, by incompetent folk
or malicious intent, get rid of that bloke?
I'll find out the answer some time or other
now its my duty, there will not be another.

Time will not quench the angst that I feel
so rest not those few, this is for real.
Decisions are made but can be amended
if only they'd listen, it's all that's demanded.
But if it's to be, a battle I'll wage
I no longer care, such is my rage.

Each day that passes, the tragedy goes on
more people get hurt, look what they've done.
One day in the future, when I'm not sure
A solution will come, but is it a cure?
It may be a marathon, a long winding road
I'll keep on seeking, the justice that's owed.

© 1999 Mark Galloway


Unfit for work

Dear Sirs

In my own opinion I am unfit for work. You see, I was happily walking the children down what I thought was the right path for them when someone came and pointed in the other direction.

I stopped, gathered the children to me and considered the other path. It was not the path for them. It was built for fitter, more confident children. I continued taking the children down their path, they continued to grow.

He returned, and pointed the other way again and again. He seemed to be my leader, so I tried hard to follow his way. The path was blocked by fallen trees, paper was strewn and discarded everywhere.

The children and I gathered up the papers and we tried to make sense of the magic pages as if they were for us.

I worked long and hard into the weekends and nights trying to make the papers work for the children. He told me again and again that I was wrong. I tried again and again to get the pages right. I wanted so much to make it all work.

The children, by now confused, tried to help me back onto their path, I gratefully stumbled along with them.

Someone bigger than him came and joined me on the children's path. She read the papers to me and they made sense. She walked some of the way with me and I was grateful.

I joyfully took all the papers home and read them again. At last, confirmation! I gladly and proudly translated them for the children. We returned to the right path and walked together.

He returned, snatched the papers angrily from me, took them away and pushed me back onto his path. The children screamed and scattered. They were frightened, they followed me, bewildered. I screamed inside "God help us please!" But God was not there....

My scream burst out. I was heard by friends who were also lost. They picked me up and we groped our way forward together. The paper was crumpled tear-stained and torn. We tried to smooth it out but it was the wrong map for this path.

I asked him for the right map for his path. He threw a heavy book at me. It knocked me over and I couldn't stand up. I fell in a heap. Friends picked me up again but they were staggering and falling over too. This time, the children had disappeared. I had lost my eyes, ears and legs. Friends carried me home and left me to recover. I was too heavy for them to carry further.

Newspapers told me he had left the job. I was weakened but optimistic. I heard from friends that they were back on the right path and had been given the right map. I felt that weak as I was, I could crawl, I would follow.

Their new leader wisely told me that they were many miles further up the road by now and I would not be able to catch up with them. She reassured me that my children were with a kind lady who knew the way.

I am not yet ready to climb the path. The way is steep and they must all climb quickly. My legs are not for climbing yet. I have found my eyes and ears but they still ache. I long to return to the path, long to be strong enough to climb quickly.
I can only stand here, smile, wave weakly and wish them all "God speed"...

© Special Needs Teacher, 15th April 1999


Ode to Michelle

I've written these words for you Michelle
As my thoughts, so often, upon you dwell,
At the present time, I've got Friday in mind
An event, you'll remember, I think you'll find.

After all the harsh treatment, the abuse you've borne
How strong you have been, though at times forlorn
Despite it all you have not been alone
As time and again, you have been shown.

So, when the day dawns and you're good and ready
You'll just need a prayer that will keep you steady
And focused on what you believe to be right
Yet again you'll be given the strength to fight.

You know in your heart, justice has to be done
And whatever it takes, you will know you have won
When once more, the day dawns and you feel free
It's not that far away, just you wait and see.

Whatever it takes, you'll achieve it alright,
And no matter what, always keep in sight
The vision of what your actions will bring
That is, peace of mind, above everything.

It's not just for yourself, but others as well
For when it's all over, what a story to tell
Of the girl who "took on" the might of "brute force"

With the law on her side, "won the day", of course.

The meeting on Friday might be just the beginning
Of a lot of the same, more revelations of sinning
Whatever the outcome, the truth will prevail
One thing is for sure, Michelle, you won't fail.

With this thought in mind, go fight the good fight
For all the victims who don't have the might
Or the courage, the strength, to see it right through
That's your mission, Michelle, now it's down to you.

Although we've not met, we've shared much, it would seem
And with this poem comes the "rub of the green"
To bring you "Good Luck", you'll need some of that too
As well as the prayer, I say daily, for you.

© MD, May 1998


Ode to a Female Bully

Bully Bully, why do this to me?
Power Power is all you see
Is there blood in your veins or is there venom?
When you're not here it's absolute heaven
I know you want rid of me so bad
Or is it my popularity that gets you mad?
Your sole aim was to put me through hell
Does disability discrimination ring a bell?
Remember the note I was not to see?
You had a fright when I knew you wrote about me
Your next plan was to get me to leave
That work-load you gave me was not for real
My planning of lessons was no good for you
But everyone else's would pass through
Then you decided on the final blow
I was crap at my job and you expected me to go
I did go on the sick because of my health
But the big suffering was my wealth
The governors would always do what you say
They even sacked me so you got your own way
The 25 years I must have bluffed to those heads
It wasn't easy pulling the wool over the eyes of Ofsted
Well now it's all over I'm glad in a way
The tribunal won't be long now, it's your turn to pay
You will have a plan for the next in line
People like you don't know when to call time
Your biggest mistake was to ruin my life
You failed to realise I have a very strong wife
She fought tooth and nail for what is right
I know it is her you now have to fight
The only thing you have got from your planned trap
Is a recent Ofsted report which was absolute crap.

© Gill Hetherington 1999


Looking Back

25 years I've been at this school
My past headteachers said I played by the rules
A happy team was always there
Everybody for each other they would care
For in my career I missed 3 days
But my superiors had caring ways
Special memories I had for my past heads
Then the authority appointed you instead
I remember when I was interviewed for my post
It took me one attempt at the most
So why did you have to try 13 times
That school was unlucky when you said the job was mine
It was September time when you walked through those doors
I thought we had no happy ship any more
As time went on you planned your scheme
You thought you would destroy this happy team
It was March the following year you set your plan
You thought I will get rid of this man
My disability I have is my hearing
But you thought it was dangerous, I remember you cheering
The parents would come to collect their child
They would say Hi, your teaching has a very good style

I could see the jealousy you had, this made you sick
You thought a complaint to the governors would do the trick
I thought you had won with your cunning plan
But you have made me a stronger man
Even today parents are supporting my ways
This just simply eats you away
How do you think and what do you do?
What pleasure has this brought for you?
Your career prospects have come to a halt
At the end of the day this is your own fault

© Gill Hetherington 1999


DREAM OR NIGHTMARE?

The question that I ask
Keeps roaring through my head
Am I comfortably in my bed?
Or stretched upon the rack.

My dreams once seemed so pleasant
Of many beauteous things.
With colours bright and vibrant
Now gray and filled with gloom.

Here I lay in darkness of the night
In what should be the comfort of my room
Is this to be my future?
One of ever lasting fright.

From whence come these devils
Tearing at my mind
Breaking peaceful sleep
Am I of unsound mind?

The job I once worked at
Has been torn from in my grasp
The reason for this happening
Has become my unending task.

Then suddenly a reason
Is placed before my gaze
It is not of my own making
Bullies appear through the haze.

I see now what has happened
The cause appears quite clear
I'm really being punished
For another's psychotic fear.

by "SNOW PARL", © 1999


That man called Tim!

There is this man, they call him Tim
If you get bullied, contact him
He was bullied once in his time
All I can say, they were out of their minds
It takes all sorts to be treated this way
You know the saying, "Every dog has his day"
Well Tim you have certainly had that
It took 5 years to get rid of that prat
Since your health has finally recovered
You have gone all out to help all others
You always say we are in the right
Maybe that&'s why you're a Guru for "Bully in Sight"
Just look at you now you brainy sod
All your degrees have had to be catalogued
It wasn't until I clicked your web page
I thought bloody hell this guy has a lot to say
As I started to read with total interest
I started in January and finished at Christmas
You must be proud of what you've achieved
The awareness you brought you must be pleased
Saturday will soon be here gone in a flash
We hope your books will bring lots of cash
So please accept this dedication going your way
To that bloke called Tim Field who might be popular one day.

© Gill Hetherington 1999


QUESTIONS

I don't think I have ever treated you wrong
Why do you want to hurt me ?
I always hoped we would get along,
Why, oh why couldn't that be?
These are the questions I ask time again,
But there are no answers, only pain.

Have I ever spoken angry words to you,
Truly, I really don't think so.
Your words cut deep, that's what they do,
You've broken my spirit, don't you know?
These are the questions I ask time again,
But there are no answers, only pain.

How many tears have I got to cry,
How long will I be sad?
Sometimes I really just want to die,
Am I so bad, am I so bad?
These are the questions I ask time again,
But there are no answers, only pain,

In the small dark hours I lie awake,
Will I ever stop hearing you shout?
Should I go, for all the teams sake,
Or can we perhaps, turn this about?
These are the questions I ask time again,
But there are no answers, only pain.

I fall on my knees and to God I pray,
That the nightmare will be gone.
That we both will see a much brighter day,
Surely this cannot be wrong?
No more questions to ask time again,
All will be answered, NO MORE PAIN.

(A social worker)


Dignity.....

Dignity is an overcoat
I've not always worn.
On the worst of days
it fell, unnoticed.

Exposed, turned to stone,
while the blade of another's
stare, unrelenting; Bravery
in an impoverished shield.

Copyright © B Savarese 1993


My New Job (May1999)

I was really so excited
As I started work that day
Quite unaware what was in store
On that fateful day in May.

Enjoying the challenge of the new job
I was as happy as can be.
A few weeks into my new role
I sensed she had it in for me.

I don't know why she turned this way
I was as confident as can be.
I was learning fast, I enjoyed the job
So why was she picking on me?

The nit picking started
And the harassment too.
I had feelings of dread
As she dictated what to do.

In such a short time my spirit was crushed
And I was a nervous wreck,
I knew I had to seek some help
It's not a weakness " What the heck"

Word got round I was not happy
My confidence had drained away.
I realised then I was a victim
Of her bullying, day after day.

She poisoned the folk around me
Rumours and lies she spread.
I was completely isolated
Everyday at work I'd dread.

Everyone sent me to Coventry
I was bewildered as to why.
If only I'd been a woman
I could have a damn good cry.

Nervously, I approached the manager
For his help and his advice.
The reaction I received from him
Was not at all very nice.

He suggested 'I' was the problem
As "everything used to be fine.
So get out there I'm a busy man
And don't be wasting my time."

Oh! My God where do I turn?
I was so desperately low.
The Union may just help me
I decided to give it a go.

I was met with understanding
At last I had a friend.
They promised to give me their support
Right to the very end.

Maybe things will change now
I prayed with all my heart.
I did not know my path was laid
And this was just the start!!

The bully hounded me tirelessly
She crushed me to the core
One day I made my mind up
" I aren't taking any more"

With a spring in my step I resigned that day
My letter was short but not sweet.
With my head held high I told the bully
The shock on her face was a treat!

She is so smug
She thinks she's won
Her plan has worked
But I have not done.

We must protect all victims
Of this bullying and abuse.
Be strong, brave and not ashamed
Don't believe that, its "no use"

These bullies thrive on power
It feeds their daily need.
If we choose to ignore their abusiveness
We are allowing it to breed.

Copyright © T Grace 15th May 2000
Written for my Husband who needs all the help he can get.


his discombobulatory
self righteous ass-holiness
plagues the paradigms of average folk

with insidious method
and a cruel heart
he hides from his knowledge
that he is the joke

the narcissist bully
knows quite fully
that his every action stems
from his own self loathing
and terrible fear of discovering himself

pity won't work
on this kind of jerk
get to a point
and he'll go berserk

deathly protective of
his sacred denial
he'll shovel and keep shovelling
onto the pile

to think I once considered
this person a friend
I now look forward to
never seeing him again

Copyright © pbb August 2000


The Puppeteer..

The puppeteer does many things,
She makes us dance, her tunes we sing.
Our strings held tight, lest we should stray.
The narrow path that is her way.

No thoughts our own, may be allowed
Beneath her gaze, she keeps us cowed.
She sometimes lets our strings go slack,
Then cruelly jerks them, tightly back.

Her actions leave us at a loss,
We must perform, she is our boss.
For whilst our company, well does fare,
Those up above her have no care.

One puppet she may like today,
Tomorrow kick his legs away
Thus we know not, where we all stand,
Our fate is always in her hand.

Odd puppets leave
All wrecked and worn.
The spirit from them,
Cruelly torn.

For whilst she thinks we have no soul,
We blindly play our masters role.
Mere puppets we, wont always be,
As one day soon we will be free.

When we cut loose, our strings we'll break
And freedoms road we all will take.
For freedom both, of thought and speech,

Will be within all puppets reach !!

--------------------------------

Now nearly all the puppets, have cut away their ties,
Moved on to star in different shows, away from all the lies.
Some left with help, some left with hope
But none now dangle from her rope.

For we've moved on to better things, pastures fresh and new,
Success and failure's up to us in all that we may do.
The tale is told, the deeds are done, there's no more to be said,
Just time to heal the battle scars and forge our way ahead.

------------------------------------------------

IAN WOOLGER........

This poem is dedicated to those unsung heroes who stood up to the bullshit, lies and constant belittlement that was targeted at them and refused to be treated in such a way. You know who you are and you hopefully will all find that you are good at what you do and your self esteem and belief in your own ability will never be trampled on again.

For those of you who agree with everything and stab your fellow employees in the back, one day you too will be a victim and there will be no one to stand beside you in your hour of need.

Remember, that none of us is perfect, we can only do our best, but only those people who do nothing, make no mistakes..

"Managers manage , Bullies don't"


Bullied to bits

I've been bullied to bits..
And STILL she sits
At her computer,
Back straight as a board,
E-mailing the world.

I've been bullied to bits..
And STILL she trots around.
I can still hear her sound.

I've been bullied to bits..
And she's smirking a smirk-
She can't help..
She smirks...
And me?
Me - I jerks.
Fair play?
Nay.

I've been bullied to bits..
And STILL she rules
And drools
At the thought of her next victim.

I've been bullied to bits..
Was it because I had bigger t*t*?

I've been bullied to bits..
There's a profile she fits
At serial.htm
SERIAL BULLY

Copyright © Nats November 2000


Bully Girl
**********

Bully Girl -
What makes you tick?
Do my niceties make you sick...
With paranoia?

Bully Girl -
What do you do today?
Your work assigned?
Or ploys to play?

Bully Girl -
I note your stare...
Tis' evil ... devious
And I'm aware..
Of your intent.

Bully Girl -
Are you turned-on?
I'm off your turf!
I'm really gone -
Insane?
No...
Just in TEMPORARY pain.

Bully Girl -
Your time has come!
Tim's made me smart..
I've told everyone..
Who you REALLY are -
SNOTTY WAFFLE CHUNKS!

Copyright © Nats November 2000


when we waited for teacher one morning
tired but awake even though still yawning
i saw to my surprise
a devil appear before my eye's
he walked and talked and we looked just the same
but he is the one about which i complain
when this girl from his old school came bye
he ran up to her kicking and punching i don't know why
the others around though not all quite happy
said leave him to it "he can be quite snappy"
i myself could not look away
so i went up to him just to say
"please stop hitting her she is defenceless"
so he stopped hitting her and gave me a caress
i never knew what i had started
i just felt the bruises and something smarted
hoping the next day would be different
but what i saw was further commitment
so like the cat he lied in wait
in the corridors and at the gate
every day i tried a new route
to avoid the punches the kick from the boot
so obsession to me was being prey
i still am obsessive to this day
i cannot work or socialise
walk tall or look people in the eye's
i feel so rejected neglected abused
you should see how much drugs i have used
uppers or downers to rise and to sleep
i cannot forget i only weep

Written by d.b.Welch
© 2001

Poor Berty
Slippery and slimy creepy and crawly
The black and the greasy all come to see
Choking and smoking burnt to a cinder
Dirty and flirty not wearing shirty
Find them and tie them on to that Berty
Lick them and stick them post them and roast them
Make him unhappy by laughing fat
Spite him and bite him then we might fight
Never give in to his whines and his pleading
We'll make him bleed for things that he needs
Shoot him and loot him then we shall scoot
Make him afraid of what we will say
Wheel him and deal him then we shall feel him
Drop him and stop him from playing today


Written by d.b.Welch
© 2000


Will you ever journey far?
To find your true lying regretted deep,
Will you ever fill with remorse and doubt?
Counting those you've hurt and driven out.
Do you see the self-hate and self-deception?
Full of hate to those who act honourably,
Do you see your own projected reflection?
Mirroring back from every direction.
Have you counted up the cost?
Lost lives, but it's your own happiness most.
Do you know you are a bully?
Targets poisoned, you despatch them with glee.
Will you ever act selflessly?
That's an act completely alien to thee.
© 2001 Mr T


A CRY FOR HELP

How I hate this lonely world
I want to run away
I cannot bear to think ahead
Or wake up each new day

I hate the people in this world
And they all hate me too
And often when things get too bad
I don't know what to do

I'm all screwed up and really scared
I ask you listen to me
I feel I am a prisoner
Please help me to go free

Please help me find what I'm searching for
I'm starting to give up hope
I feel there is no chance now
And don't know how I'll cope

Please help me through this difficult stage
This is my cry for help
I've not yet reached that high pitched scream
It's just a pity full yelp

But before I reach that high pitched scream
Please stay close to my side
Whilst I sit and write this rhyme
I've cried, and cried and cried.

© Copyright 2001 Stella Dunstan, Creative Communication


The violence,
The hate,
The nasty remarks,
It's all your fault
These attacks.

There's never an apology
Just more of the same,
Am I really going insane?

So what happens when
I'm no longer the target?
Does it go from father to son?
I'll be damned if I'll let it
I'll never give in.
It's time...
To break the chain.

There's a conspiracy of silence
Like a cloak,
That surrounds my aggressor.
Like the smile on her face
That shields the truth...
Of hidden depths
That erupt in violence.

They know you know,
The mother the brothers
The sisters the friends...
They're scared to tell
And they'd rather not know.

But now there's two
At least its a start
And I'm no longer in the dark!
I know her violence didn't start with me!
Still...
It makes me smart to think,
I'd let it happen to me.

© 2000 Barrie Reid


Bullying is something that bullied people hate

Understanding why can often be too late

Left all alone with no-one to care

Longing for someone to make life fair

Yearning live a day with no-one bullying you

Isolation being a word that you believe is true

Needing reassurance that all will be OK

Giving into others every single day

© 2002 Stella Dunstan


TREASURE CHEST

Bullying can come in many forms
Mine, no different to the rest
For the reason I was bullied
Was because of the size of my chest
I developed before most other girls
Who laughed and ridiculed me
But little did these school girls then know
The damage it did to me
I hid with shame getting changed for PE
Knowing that they would stare
For I began to feel like a freak
And yet no-body would care
Girls would comment and boys poke fun
At something that wouldn’t go away
If only then I’d realised
That things would change one day
For now 38 years down the line
I’m the one to be proud
For I have no reason to hold any shame
And it’s me standing out in a crowd
Those girls at school who now have small chests
Are wishing they’d never bullied me
For bullying I thought would last forever
Was bullying through envy - I’m sure you’ll agree

Remember - BULLYING CAN BACKFIRE

© 2002 Stella Dunstan


THE RAPE OF THE SOUL

Words spill from a place of gloom
Slap like an echo resounding the doom
The body tort ready to fight
Shakes like a leaf prepared for flight

What can this be for when such violence is met
From a heart so bitter twisted with dread
Who contaminated this child's heart
Oh so cold and worn without a spark

Only God's love can consume one so closed
To break the seal of defended repose
Cold clammy fear driven shut down
Distant and far removed from God sound.

© 2002 N Settay


The fluttering butterfly
The butterfly is fragile-you can
kill easily
But if do-you lose its beauty
Yet as it flutters the storms
grow
Clouds form-rain falls
Now people drown
For man is half butterfly
Fragile too

© 2002 Patrick Cooper-Duffy


dear B

what I saw in you I didn't see in me,
what I felt from you I didn't want in me,
what I heard from you I couldn't shield from me
what I thought of you I didn't think of me.

have you never listened to you?
have you never felt your hate?
have you never seen your fury?
have you never thought beyond you?

does it hurt to be you?

because it hurt to be me, but less and less

I change,

you stay the same..

so who is the loser?

 

ON BEING BULLIED AT WORK

..When did I ask you to hate me?
What small part of me brought out this emotion?
Did I remind you of someone you once knew?
Were my laughter and smiles too much for you?
Am I a bad person?
What did the feeling of control do for you?
Did it give you power?
Was sublimation a game to enjoy?
Did my tears finally give you the satisfaction you
looked for?
Did you ever experience isolation?
Or ever felt alone amongst many people?

Your hatred descended like a black hurricane
drilling deep down into my soul.
Leaving me like a small child with no hand to hold
frightened and confused.

My confident self shattered in pieces on the floor.

Anger I feel, but only to make you see my 'truth'.
To make you feel what I felt. To make you understand.

But you are blind and will never see.
..and I must move on away from the tears which sit
deep in my soul
 

A RESPONSE TO ANOTHER'S PAIN

Take the smile from your heart and wear it
on the outside, in your eyes, in your words,

A heart smile is the rainbow which cuts through the
black emotional
cloud that fills your deep soul with tears.

Knowledge and self-knowledge are the tools which cut
through the
confusion and the "why me?".

So turn your vision outwards now and reach out to
those whom you love
and care for and who DO care for you.

Trust them. Trust your instinct and know it will never
let you down.
Above all love yourself and be true to everything that
is you and
that makes you special.
 

NINE ELEVEN

Two towers and fifty thousand people,
Tuesday morning,
Like slingshot arrows from hell they came,
consciously aimed.

We are an inhuman race, and one thousand thunderstorms
cannot
cry the tears to mourn such loss - the images burned
in our minds forever.
 

CYBERFRIENDS AND ANGER

You wrote in LARGE GREEN LETTERS that shouted your
anger to me.

You said it was in capitals because you could read it
better that way.

But I felt the anger screaming from the monitor at me.

I still do.

Anger is a dark bubbling cauldron of hate. Its essence
sits on your
soul like a canker, and every so often you turn and
feed it with the
same hurtful memories over and again, time after time,
returning and
repeating the cycle endlessly.

Fetid curls of smoked anger penetrate deep into your
life, corrupt
all that is clean, bright and fine and sour it with a
sad taint.

Give up feeding your anger for it will consume you
totally.

Look for light, take up hope, believe in good. This
could be the
start of your shining new life, all you have to do is
reach out your
hand and take it.

Embrace joy and believe that love is there behind the
eyes and words
of every friend who cares about you.

A heart-smile is balm to the soul.


TIREDNESS

sometimes...

get so tired...

of feeling sad,

of hurting..

of living in a bubble,

of your own making,

but you try to break out

and sometimes it works,

and sometimes it doesn't

but you just go on

trying

and trying

and trying

and feel

so

tired..

 

ONE YEAR INTO NEW JOB AND STILL FEELING UNHEARD

 ...though I speak what I know

do you hear?

I examine each run of thoughts

and compare them to my soul,

am I being honest?

is this what I mean?

is this how it was?

my affirmation allows me to speak the words

-which are heard.

but do you listen?

are you hearing what I mean?

do you accept the honesty behind my truth?

I am unable to speak other than my truth

which is subjective yes, but there is no

doubt in my mind.

Am I bending the truth to fit my intentions

towards

another? No I am not. If I were to do so

I would be lying to myself and I do not live with

that.

What are my needs here?

To be understood.

To be accepted.

To know my truth is accepted.

To be seen as honest.
 

To deny those things is to condemn me to further

self-doubt.

A seeming eternity of another's projections

creating

self doubt and uncertainty has destabilised me.

 

Please listen to me and hear what I say.

Please learn that this need is paramount to every

soul-damaged human.

© 2002 S Newall-Smith


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