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| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

Crossed Me At The Borderline, Just In Time

-------------------------------------- ~*note: done in fun and aimed at no one~  



try and seed my name you'll concede to shame
no use in calling names to lose the game

yir' ill will is just plain disastrous 
asinine avatars deserve an asterisk

as for being fact-less, your slaps don't diss
every lick you spit simply tends to miss

harmless words that curse, rehearsed childishness
gets your face erased and they'll say who's next

as defilement arrives inside your text
that's when shame wheels you back, right to the nest.


~10 syllables in each of 10 rhyming lines~

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

Blacklisted

The poet Marshall Mathers
whilst "Cleaning Out My Closet"
blasted with inquiry-

"Have you ever been hated on or discriminated against?
I have...''

Interesting enough
in these crooked times
it is impossible to make a man like you,
or your art,  
especially with unbounding determination.

Nevertheless,
It sure is mighty easy to attain their hatred, 
through no fault of your own. 

When they protest or demonstrate against you...
finally you have arrived!
That's powerful!

Common sense says, 
"Never drive in the rear view mirror!" 

Though, it sure is helpful to take a quick glance back
periodically
to check out Jealousy, 
back there 
doubting and shouting and eating your dust!

Take a whiff...
Listen...
AHHHH....

The band begins to play ferociously!
Off-key.
Off-color.
Slander Slogans pasted upon your face.

Furthermore,
Suddenly, 
Systematically...
like roaches with lights bright,
they disappear into the night, 
back to the slums;
begging for crumbs.

Once you've been Blacklisted;
Swallow.
Digest the miracle.
Pure, glowing gold
the alchemy of their anger,
visibly discernable from the glossy pyrite 
appearing with fake praise.

Heed the old adage:
---------------Keep yir' friends close, and enemies closer.

Their futile harm repels from the Teflon donning your heart.

Envy
burns bold, boils, 
melts and cools, then cold,
forging the sword.

Adding to your arsenal.

Stumble not 
upon bone fragments,
brittle blacklist bandits... 
the Catacombs of those
who aimed to defame your name,
staking claim for their 
shameless sea of debris
and Rotten Forgottens 
which only bolster your begotten flame.

Remain steadfast, undaunted

                           TROUNCE THOSE TREACHEROUS TROUBLES;
________________________           TO            ________________________
                            MARCH THROUGH THE RIGOROUS RUBBLE!

*Heads High,
Let me see those eloquent eyes!~JsL    



~Inspired by written words of Marshall Mathers, Cleaning Out My Closet, 
Shady Records~

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

I look back and smile

I remember how I would cry myself to sleep
Night after night then I would wake the next morning 
Dreading the moment I stepped into the 
School's doors where you would all be waiting.
You'd smile and pretend like we were the best of friends 
Till my parents left the car park then the words
Would fall from your mouths slashing and cutting,Burning into
my brain. You would all stand around me mocking me,jeering.
 When you saw your words didn't effect me,you moved on to
The physical. I remember how your hands would wrap 
 around my throat,preventing me from breathing. You'd laugh at
My struggle to breathe. I remember how they would hold
 Me down so I couldn't run while you would punch me repeatedly till I 
Could no longer stand up right,till I lay in a pool of my own blood. How people          
would just watch and laugh but never stop and intervene. The pain and          
humiliation I felt only enhanced your glee.
 I've grown stronger, now nobody would dare mock me. Sometimes 
people aren't strong enough to survive this so they leave but some 
people come out stronger...like me. I remember how you'd get so angry
Because I never cried,I never screamed I just took it silently.
 When I look back I see how small you were and I try to feel anger at what you 
did to me but I feel nothing. I try to hate you but I can't. 
 Maybe it's because I'm now successful and you have nothing to look forward to 
but another gruelling day of pain and little food.
I feel no hate only sympathy towards the person I once feared but no longer do. 
Now I look back and smile at how I could've stopped you and I know you 
realised this too, now I know why you only ever hurt me when your friends were 
around to hold me down. I admit you've ruined me in many ways. I can no 
longer trust people,love people,no longer look people in the eye,but I look back 
and smile  because if you had never hurt me like you did I wouldn't be the 
person I am today, I  wouldn't be as strong and independent,as successful and 
happy as I am today, I would never feel such a strong sense of justice like I do 
now so I would like to thank you for making me a better person.
                                           
                                                Thank you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


      
     

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

Attack

"I'm bleeding
do you think you can patch me up?
oh the ceiling is
starting to spin around
and around and
this feeling
my arms are tingling
hating and seething
i think that i am
panicking!

Attack an Attack
my body turns on me
i can't react
the world is falling all around me
An attack an Attack
my face is numb
soon i'll hit the ground
and no one's going to save 
me any how.

Breathing is shallow
much like a wave
put me on a stretcher
and carry me so far away
the thoughts in my head
are starting to race
my body is seizing
i think i'm panicking...

Attack an Attack
my body turns on me
i can't react
this world is falling
all around me
An attack an Attack
my face is going numb
soon i'll hit the ground
cuz no one's here to 
save me any how.

Panic attack
an attack an attack
panic attack
panic
attack!"

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

I Have Hidden Super Powers

I don't wear a cape around
My neck, breaking the speed of sound
Or capture bad guys in a web
My powers have never fled
From my heart that's where they stay
Secretly until the day
I see injustice come along
Others are treated so wrong
My super powers become stronger
When I can't take it any longer
Hearing stories of bullying
My special skills kick right in
Set loose, no holding them back
My love alert goes on attack
Not stopping for anything
It won't ease up until I bring
All this hatred to a low
I give one huge final blow
Across the land until there is
No more hate or prejudice
Until then, I'm on alert
Making sure there is no hurt
I will be here till the end
All my powers I will send
Into the hearts of those so weak
Mild mannered, shy and meek
That get pushed around each day
I'll make sure it goes away
This promise will be kept for sure
Any kind of hatred I abhor

Premium Member Poem | Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

King Vlad

King Vlad is anything but Democracy’s man of the hour.
Rather, à coup sûr, he’s really Stalin’s nasty little boy
who ironically parades svoboda and glasnost’
like he really means them—actually he means them not.

King Vlad’s political traditions and pronouncements 
are well-known among those who are sadly aware
of his tapestry of treachery and deceit—oh so slovenly woven
for all to see, just like some of his fellow-gangster favorites:
Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev, and Andropov.

King Vlad is anything but a real world leader . . .
His kind are an open book for all to see and understand
what they are and what they mean for all who strive
for openness, decency, and real compassion in the
twenty-first century world order.

King Vlad—just like his Dracula name sake,
is a man without a soul, without a conscience,
who shall never shudder, wince or cry
at the piercing death rattle of a Kalashnikov.

King Vlad is truly no friend of Democracy, 
sounding even at times not unlike Hitler;
he’s a demon leader with innocent blood on his hands,
always quick with the old Soviet reply:
Lie . . . Deny . . . Accuse . . . Reject . . . Criticize . . . 
all tools of this redoubtable master of prevarication.

King Vlad should know that the Heavenly Souls 
of flight MH17 know the bitter truth, gor’kaya pravda, 
surrounding his lies, treachery, and deceit—all pejorative 
attributes to a man with the mask of a real monster who 
had the very best Soviet teachers.

And so Generalissimo Stalin . . . 
How do you like your nasty little boy now???
He’s right up your alley, right???

“Putin” has five letters just like “Devil.”

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany 
(August 9, 2014)

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

Record Player

I'll be honest, 
I gave into anger,
I gave him what he desired,
But I played the roll of the looking glass,
Only to realize, he was blind.

Oh and if I could be a recording instead, 
I would not want to be his record player,
His words cast wounds that might break me, 
for breaking beautiful things is what he loves.

Scratches tarnished on my gypsy black skin, 
dancing circles round and round again, 
to play his words with mal intent,
- a lost cause to hope he might repent.

So no, I would not be his record player 
- forced to repeat his cruel words over and over, 
If his dark nails touched your skin, 
break free and sing your own song instead.

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

The Fat Girl

I may be fat but I can cook soul food to put you in a good mood I don't mean to be rude but you look like a string bean
You only know how to make sandwiches I can make steaks to take your breath away
you say I look like a steak but you can't even make a cake you need to drink more shakes
I need to eat more salads but at least I have a big wallet


I may be fat but I can dance your eyes are  glued to my thighs are you hypnotize yet
Do you want to take a chance and try to beat me in dancing you can't defeat me 
I can shake my hips and do flips I can drop it like its hot you can only pop that's not much 
Oh, now you want to challenge me but you can't balance on the dance floor 
The crowd wants to see me more you were just a bore 

I may be fat but I'm the one who looks pretty in this skirt you look silly like Big Bert
You say I don't look good in a bikini because I'm not tiny but at least I'm not  bony like you
You say I look like a buffalo but at least I don't have a problem finding a fellow
I don't mean to be a pest but you started this mess why don't you give it a rest
I'm fat but I'm telling you I'm the best you don't need to guess 

I may be fat but I'm good at writing poetry
You say that  you're good too but people are going to say boo to you
You say that isn't true and I need to pray because I won't win but I know I can 
You say that people wouldn't pay cash to see me but they will chase me I have a nice ass
you say your poetry  will get publish but that's only a wish I will you forgot to take your pills


Men want to be with me because I have meat on me you only have bones 
You say that I don't look like a model but men want to play with me and pay me to date 
I may be fat but I found a man who likes me like that but your man said you act like a brat
I'm getting married tomorrow don't feel sorrow 
You can laugh but at least I'm glad that I'm not sad or bad and I'm not a brat so take that


| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

Already Dead

"Gosh, you're such a freak."
"Did you wake up that ugly?"
You say to me.
It had become a daily ritual that we partake in.
You say what comes to that cruel, 
unsympathetic mind.
And I sit, 
listening,
telling myself I'll be home soon.
Just a few more hours.
Not the rest of my life.
"Must be hard to look in the mirror. Is it cracked by now? You're a monster."
You laugh.
I slide further into my desk, 
waiting for you to leave, as you usually do.
I never look up, 
too afraid to make eye contact.
That'd be too personal.
Yet you always find a way to get eye level with me so I can see the anger in your eyes;
masked is hurt, maybe,
pain from your own life as if belittling me helps any.
"Tomorrow. Same time as usual. Don't get any more beautiful on me."
You say, clearly kidding.
You finally walk away.
I exhale out,
letting the air I've been holding in escape.
I sigh and get up to leave.
Whatever I'm feeling I push down inside,
just like any other day.
I can't break.
Not now, not here.
I go home and head to my room.
Once there, I can feel.
Fear and frustration, cross my mind first.
Anger and agony, follow.
Sorrow and sadness, next.
Then come the tears. 
Warm as they may be, they do nothing to warm my heart.
The words of the day always find a way to my memory.
Ugly,
freak,
monster.
Today was a mild day,
most are worst.
The tears continue for an hour,
tissues fill my bed.
Then they stop and I go on about my night,
always anticipating tomorrow.
The next day is the same.
Different day, similar names.
Hideous,
midget,
elf.
I try to feel nothing, but today I feel bitter.
Years of torment have changed me.
Allowed me to feel quiet inside until I want to feel.
At the end of of the day, 
as we normally would part ways you ask, 
"Why don't you just kill yourself?"
For once I look up,
"But I'm already dead."

| Details | Anti Bullying Poem | |

BACK BITE

BACK BITE!
  -Dharga Nagar Safa

My Back,my home,
Back bone,it's roof like a camp pole
I carry my slice of bread on my back,
As a bread WINNER winning only the defeats in life,
Back bite,
With the mouth but without teeth,
The wound,no cure in health
Tell me anything to my heart,in front,
But don't back bite,
It is breaking not my heart but my back bone!

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