Nothing, Now Something
by Michael O’Donnell (age 16, Finglas, Dublin)
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Where is he? Where is he? I cannot see,
I know he’s there lurking, watching.
Hidden faceless amongst the crowds
Like a shadow wrapped in a shroud.
A cold moist breeze tickles the back of my neck,
Frozen like ice, voiceless.
Waves of emotion flood my mind,
Scared of the thought that he is behind.
A vaulting black that smothers me,
In deep breaths, I turn to face
This savage who has come for me.
Pushed aside, I am nothing!
A revolting stench fills the air,
A mocking chuckle enters my ear,
His hand silences my scream,
Watching him take delight in my distress.
You know what? I’m tired of this!
It’s time for him to know what it’s like to be hit.
Balled up fists swinging up high,
Knocking him up into the sky.
“Ten isn’t such a big number now”,
Taking back the voice he took away.
The bully’s growl now mumbles to nothing
My nothing is now a something.
Pride rushes through my veins,
Knowing the beast has finally been slain,
Walking away in proud profession,
A proud boy who is only seven.
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