Bring It On
As I look down at my bloody knuckles,
Crying tears of agony my eyes refused to shed,
I realised how pointless it was
How pointless to pretend, to believe.
My hand trembles as I pen this,
The flow of words, more powerful than any strike,
My one solace, my get away.
When I look around,
I see the faces of my tormentors,
Jeering at me,
Accusing me of crimes unthought of.
I delve deeper into my pain,
My fury- my agonising drug.
As I build up my walls,
Look my tormentors in the eyes and say: 'bring it on!'
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