Round up, round up
gather round, gather round
it is time to judge the dysfunctional
even the mad ones do
if we have succeeded where you have not
we’ll throw the pitch and tar
round up, round up,
gather round, gather round
easier to chuck stones even as we inhabit
our own hypocracy and glass houses
damn those considered weaker than us
for we can tred water and you cannot
(and they wonder why the depressed often die)
taking their lives as you would
walk off an edge just to stop
the scold
the approbation
the cruel joy of condemnation
I have long wanted to understand
the thrill of hurting another because you CAN
it passes me by, seems nothing more than
squashing a fly because of your size
what cowardice in that !
thinking of the playground
how we grow but remain treading mechanics of cruelty
those kids who would spot the weakest
single them from the pack and throw rocks
did not know the damage they caused
every year hence, disturbing growth
perhaps it is wrong of me to wish
to return and throttle their skinny necks
how is cruelty resolved by violence?
yet the passive do rise within themselves
seeking retribution
that’s what it took when an ugly boy with red hair and freckles
and a thick Irish accent decided I was his prey
I tried to be patient for a time
when I saw on his face the sick gratification of a smile
at hurt inflicted
there was no reason or ignoring could fix it
I swung my arm as hard as I could
just like the day I tried out for rounders
and hit a curve ball
his jaw made a whacking sound and a click
something unnatural about it
burning pain shot down my arm and into my mouth
as if I had swallowed his aggression just for a moment
his face swelled and grew red before his cry
I noticed how good it felt to stand above him
looking down avenging myself
screaming at the top of my lungs
don’t ever touch me again or I will destroy you
he never did
and right or wrong
that day taught me whether I wanted it or not
sometimes rule books and morals miss
the playground solution to evil
if you’ve tried everything else
hit them with all you’ve got
don’t bow your head and say
thank you boss I like it when you make me feel so awful
ever since if nothing else I can say
nobody will walk on me or hold me down
it might not be much but it’s something more
than the fear of being bullied, that sickness
in the morning as you wake
terror in your day ahead
sometimes there is no good outcome
much as we try to use our intellect
the savage side of us can protect against
those who like hurting for no reason
how can you fight absurdity with sense?
we are given fists, and I do not regret
the blood on mine
antithetical to almost everything I believe
when we are pushed to the edge
we react in kind
like with like
fire with fire
an eye for an eye
may leave the whole world blind
yes and still
come for me and I will
(A lot of people may disagree with this. But in the real world ‘reasoning’ with a bully doesn’t always work. Having tried everything and not having further recourse, with nobody to stand up for me, I stood up for myself. Was it morally or ethically any better than the bully? Yes, because it wasn’t what I wanted to start or finish but it had to end. This ended it. I have never regretted it. If it happened exactly the same again I’d do exactly the same again. What they don’t teach you in the karma and psychology books is the street rules, and what actually happens in real life. Even kids can be sadists, even kids can want to destroy a person for NO reason. Learning to stop that, is key to survival. I survived because I fought back. Condemn it, but in the same scenario, what would you have done?).
TheFeatheredSleep 