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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2196338
The problem with being the nice guy.
Bullies abound and kids gather round
"Fight, Fight!" they cry
He is a loudmouth who picks on the smaller
and few are smaller than I

My quivering voice says "I'm not afraid."
but everyone knows it's a lie
I just want to run
get away from the crowd
find someplace safe to hide

His first punch is a jab
full on my mouth
my head tips back from the force
I can feel blood trickle
from split lips to chin
his right cross is next of course

On the ground I lay
hoping to stay
praying the worst is over this day
but I'm gathered by "friends"
placed on my feet
on with this tragic Greek play

A hand from nowhere appears on his shoulder
suddenly the bully's spun
I hear a loud crack like the snap of a whip
from the ground he now stares at the sun

my brother, my Horus
my brother, my Hercules
has rescued this pitiful child
for he was born first
brawny and strong
while I was born to be mild
G. Gabriel
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2196338