The bully projects their nightmares
Accusations and disapprovals
With nonsensical reason and devoid of feeling
They mock and purge all truth
They insist you are to blame for their pain,
When their pain is an act to induce pity,
Or better still, guilt....
In the heart of a bully there may be blood
But nothing else, no love.
They spread lies to those who listen,
To blacken you and portray failure,
Judgmental remarks and putrid stares,
Who cares. Only those who are sleeping,
And have not seen the bully without their coat.
Never heard them gloat, snigger, curse, jeer,
Never felt the projection of fear and inadequacy,
Of the bully, personally.
Drama, dalai lama, doesn't quite add up.
If you do not adhere to the will of the bully,
They will insult you,
Belittle you, try to force your hand.
They enjoy creating pain within others,
They sit and admire as the misery they spread grows.
They watch as you slowly crumble into acceptance, or suffer aloud,
No matter, it feeds them.
Fuck you bully, fuck you.
Please visit The Official Site of Rowan Blair Colver