Mock Yourself, Not I Poem by Noorie Ali

He Mock you
She mocks me

Now their thinking, why is she
Smiling, a tricky cheer

They now are wondering why I am tumbling.
In a coy full imagination.
She thinks she abuse me
He thinks he’s won.

A sense of victory.

Being shallow is what they know.
They no not for they are a melody of stupidity a random
Immaturity,

He bellow some more without consideration.
They are in a form of illustration.

The victim’s eyes shone like a parrot eye
She did not feel anger nor pain but a righteous experience.

The bully is not a barrier, he is mocking.
Not “I” but only himself.
For thy blind eye was not seeing a picture - a sketch so clear.
A mellow liberty.