Lass in Glass

 

a bully

~fully~

understands

the tactics that are scary. . .

what menaced pace,

which “in your face”,

will keep its victim wary–

–and I should know

I’ve had such foes,

just 3

–but they were hairy

 

the first

was worst,

and I–accursed

encountered child often. . .

at school and play,

at dark of day,

she found new ways to mock, and–

–cruel she was,

I think, because

we had so much in common. . .

 

the second,

threatened,

~soul and skin~

she was a woman, grown. . .

a reckless beast,

that trampled peace,

of mind and body, both.

she haunted me,

like ghost, did she,

she could have been my clone.

 

the third

preferred,

the written word,

to taunt, since she was older. . .

meaner, leaner,

scripted schemer,

bitter–but not bolder. . .

all thorn, no rose,

she dogged my prose,

she copied over shoulder.

 

But hope,

was cope,

for tormentors,

to make them run and hide. . .

as was belief

in self-esteem

to leave them high and dry–

–and I should know

since treble’d foes,

were

 

me,

myself,

&

I.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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