How a person who has been bullied feels

Hey,

Okay I saw the anti bullying seminar we had in school today and it inspired me and my friend to write this poem



THIS IS HOW I FEEL
                         - True emotions a bullied soul feels


You want to be left alone ,
you are made fun of .
You are in a group ,
you are bullied .

Either way 
its going to be hell,
and it fells as though
you are being pushed into a well.

As each day passes
it pains even more ,
and it feels terrible 
to be insecure .

The deafening silence
has a story to be told .
All my emotions
are destroying my soul .

My soul is on fire ,
and it cannot bare .
But guess what?
There is no one who cares.
                                        - Kamya Ashok and Simran Uttereja


Okay here is the poem me and my friend wrote and i know many of you out there can totally relate..

I shall let you in on a fact that i have been bullied by both others and myself
For example:
- Because of my curly hair, people (guys in my locality) over here 
tease me by calling me junglee (literally meaning tribal)
- I have huge eyes (my current profile picture) and this one boy says don't look at me because i feel like plucking your eyes out and some girls say that " Kamya you scare me with your huge eyes .. do something to them"

Yes  these are types of bullying and it hurts. 

As for self bullying: 
I began to think these were my flaws and every time i saw my self in the mirror i just couldn't bare to look at my self...

Later i learnt that these imperfections are my perfections
These imperfections define me
These imperfections are my identification
These imperfections make me , ME

Keep Smiling :D
Kamya Ashok

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love with the monster

I created a monster I came to fall in love with. And to not tell him is what hurts... Sitting next to him looking at how beautiful he looks when he sleeps, like a little child- innocent. It breaks my heart to know that I am unable to tell him, fearing the loss of friendship. It aches and I want to rub his hair and hold his hand, to kiss him on his cheek 'cause he looks so adorable. There is nothing I can do but look at how beautiful he is and wish that he'd hold me tight every night and show me the world is not such a bad place. He has already shown me there is more to the world, made me begin to think maybe the world ain't so bad. He knows my secrets and has accepted me for being me. He doesn't treat me differently after knowing my dark side, and I really thank him for that. He respects my privacy and I am thankful for that, but I constantly feel like I must be transparent towards him.. I want him to know me completely, sins and all. The thought of being this cl...
Read more
Now that I have been given the chance to speak, I shall wait for the silence. Or rather, The silenced. I stand her just to mouth for the mute. I ask if you’re willing to listen, not just hear what they have to say. These winds carry the screams of those once in pain, Their tears fall heavily upon us as rain. It’s as though we believe God exists, but fail to see his children crying. Like Atheists we sit here, their existence denying. And to those of us who believe in ourselves rather than this higher power. Why do we fail to see the lives being wasted every hour? Is it because they’re not like us? We are as deaf to them as we are to religion. I could try to see things from your point of view, but even then I would blame you. Because you said you’d have helped had you known. But through their silence it was clearly shown. Now I see you trying to hide, Just like they hid their sufferings – “I’m okay” they lied. The problem is we have strived to be perfect for so ...
Read more

Mama.

Mama, I’m sorry. You taught me to love all but I failed you. Hatred is all that clouds my mind. You were right. You did sow flowers but I grew weeds. I tried. I promise I did. I tried to see the good in all. I promise I lent an ear. I promise I tried to see it from their point of view. But mama it’s your fault too. You taught me to love and to be loved, but how does one confuse being loved with being constantly hurt? They took the ear I lent only to whisper lies about myself into my head. They used my shoulders only to push me down. They took my hands only to claw scared into it. Mama, I’m sorry but I don’t understand how this is love. If this is love, I love myself unconditionally. I beat myself mentally in claims it’ll help me do better. I carve my name into my arm to remind me of who I am. I scream into my pillow till my throat is sore, all because I love myself mama. But more than myself, I love you and I love you with the definition of love I want to believe in, what ...
Read more