Bullying (poem)


Caustic words cut deep
over wounds not yet quite healed
from the past decade.

Revenge, it’s easy
but all for naught, nothing won
in this vicious game.

It’s by reacting
you let them win you over
again and again.

Don’t fight with fists, guns
fight with poetry, with words
on your tongue, with hands

To sculpt changing times
slowly, surely, quietly
to be once at peace.

— The Finicky Cynic

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