Saturday, August 6, 2011

TORMENTED, by Charlotte Lunn

Tormented.
Walking at a death like pace in hell's playground, hands tucked
into the sleeves of the black little coat, to keep out acidic veneered
words, fur warming the decaying child.
The Devil's creatures chortle, heard from a distance, ringing in the
already splintered ears of the vexed decrepit, others just walk by,
blind, the walking impaired seen as if they are gaseous.
The scape goat always chosen to be 'it', running with little
enthusiasm, feeling like an insignificant grain of sand, forced to
share snacks with 'them' because they pinky promise to be your
friend- a lie- others more overt, chanting pitiless words of hostility.
The "pale antique" shattering into pieces small enough to fit through
the eye of a needle.
Unorthodox 'their' thoughts scream,
A reiterate of blows to the head, anguish strengthened by one
word-
"stupid"
Set up to fail, the wasp stings with it's malice yet again.
Tormented.

~Tormented, by Charlotte Lunn
"My work covers the bullying I experienced through the years of infant school, junior school and secondary school."

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