Here I stand,
My weapon in hand.
Rigid, tense and positioned to fight,
To hold myself back takes all my might,
I'm fuming, but remaining still,
Make a move and I will kill.
Anger and rage consume,
I have the means to bloom
Into a flower of Hate,
And banish all feelings of late.
Though I wish these times would pass,
It seems as though they will forever last.
Your simple movements piling my anger up,
I've reached the limit, the brim of my cup.
I'm about ready to explode,
But I know you'll think its just an episode
Of childish wants,
When you're the one who taunts.
Finally it seems to be dying,
But then you start lying.
Saying you don't do what you do.
But I know it, and you do too,
That you bully, in order to feel strong
And you bully when you feel wrong.
Here I start,
Again I feel it in my heart.
The horrid anger, burning rage.
It keeps me locked up in my cage,
Hating what's happening,
Unable stop what's suddenly pending.
My last legs are giving out,
I assume if I don't die you'll surely pout.
I don't see how
You could possibly care now
What happens to me,
In this life of misery.
I fall to the ground,
Not bothering to look around.
No one's here,
Not even the friendliest peer.
No one can see me drowning,
In my own blood that's browning.
This is the end,
For the trend
That was a girl,
Who sincerely wanted to lose her pearl
Necklace of hate.
But now, its much to late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem