Those who bully the weak are cowards before the strong.
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Bullied
Try to be,
Me,
For a day,
And you'll say hey,
Your life is bad,
So be a good lad,
Don't bully me,
Cause you see,
You make me,
Angry.
I become frightened,
And you become enlightened.
Do you enjoy being mean,
And having more green?
Well,
I don't.
Please stop,
Before you get hurt.
I might be weak,
But I am strong.
You might be stronger,
But your weaker.
I'ld like to say,
That you weight,
Alot more,
Then I.
Please don't bully me,
Please don't hurt me.
I am weak,
But strong.
You are strong,
But weak.
So be strong like me,
Cause I'm real angry.
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Not A Bully
sometimes i say harsh-full things
and don't give a damn about
broken hearts, broken spirit shattering
to shards....
My bare knuckle may just collide
with their lips...but its only few blood that drip.
I may even be a telltale but
isn't it for their best?
I am not not bully though.
it is just apart of the bog circle of life-
'the weak will never prosperous'
it is okay to cry and sleep
I am not a bully.
I took no one's life and watch them die...
even though i may think it.
I'm not a bully
poem by C.F Francis
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Ridicule is a weak weapon when pointed at a strong mind; but common people are cowards and dread an empty laugh.
quote by Martin Farquhar Tupper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards; they simply unveil them to the eyes of men. Silently and imperceptibly, as we wake or sleep, we grow strong or weak; and at last some crisis shows what we have become.
quote by Brooke Foss Westcott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Strong May Be Weak
When sorrow stabs a mind,
There’s so much it can find.
The strong may be the weak,
Hiding behind a façade they seek
To appear to be powerful
By causing others to be sorrowful.
Their weapons of hate and attack
Will only ricochet back
Further wounding their weakened mind
While forcing others farther behind.
Their weakness will start to fade
The moment in sorrow they’re not afraid
To view tenderness as something strong
And being a bully as always wrong.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strength in weakness
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
A typical Pauline sophism?
A typical Pauline syllogism?
A typical Pauline casuistry?
A typical Pauline homily.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Paul was disabled, you see
Was he blind? You ask
Was he lame? You ask
Was it a speech impediment?
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Oh! He was strong in spirit
But weak in appearance
He can’t be our leader, they said
He’s an embarrassment
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Paul said: “Yes, I am weak
But God’s strength is made perfect
In my weakness not in my strength
So up the weak and down the strong! (my words!)
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
We are all weak in some way
Weak in our words
Weak in our walk
Weak in our talk
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
But for God, weak means strong
Kingdom values, Kingdom virtues
Jesus’ values, Jesus’ virtues
My values? my virtues?
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
So the lamb not the lion
The humble not the haughty
The lowly not the lofty
The penitent not the proud.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Let’s value then the weak
And remember they are strong.
If I am proud, then I am wrong
If I am conceited, then I am wrong
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
Let’s fill the Church then with the weak
Push in the wheelchairs
Roll in the scooters
Help the handicapped walk in.
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness
“At even, ere the sun was set
The sick oh Lord, around thee lay
Oh, in what divers pains they met
Oh with what joy they went away
And none oh Lord, have perfect rest
For none are wholly free from sin;
For they who fain would serve thee best
Are conscious most of sin within.
Thy touch has still its ancient power
No word from thee can fruitless fall
Hear in this solemn hour we pray
And in thy mercy heal us all.”
Paul’s thorn in the flesh
For when I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness.
poem by James Hart
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Coward
Only cowards are
residing here.
The cowards only
does not say anything.
The cowards are
not there to take
any decision at
any point of time.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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When I Was A Child A Bully Would Challenge Me
When I was a child a bully would challenge me. He was bigger. I would run away. Over and over this went on. One morning I woke up from a dream in which I seem the bully punch some one I love over a fence. I was furious that morning. That morning the bully said something about my sister. Later that day we met at the park to fight. It was all set we would fight. It seemed as if every child from the school was there. I did not care. All that I seen, felt, all that ran through my mind was him punching my sister over the fence. The bully looked so surprised when I stepped into him and punched him right in the face. He started crying. When he got back to his feet the crowd of children were cheering. One of the older children ran in. He would not let him continue, blood poured from the bully's face. The older child might have sensed that I really would have changed the bully's life even more profoundly.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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You Think I'm Weak
For those of you who think I'm weak
For my passivity and lack of violence;
When cheeks are turned for another slap,
Cruel remarks not responded to, absorbed.
Those who think I am a man of straw
When I flex in the wind,
Please recall fine steel bends,
But does not break.
Can be a rapier for truth and justice.
For those of you who think I'm weak
Be aware however I will draw a line
And stand like an immovable rock.
Not allow the bully to prevail,
Nor will I not allow evil to endure.
Will not passively stand by.
To those of you who think I'm weak,
I say, my weakness is my strength.
poem by Paul Brookes
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The cowards never start and the weak die along the way.
quote by Kit Carson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Run and Hide
To run: To run and hide
Afraid to face the giants that arise
Strong man, strong man
Now too weak to stand
All courage tis faded
With an unseeming fate he's faced
That of a great seasoned warrior
Who now is no longer conqueror
To hide: to run and hide
Unwilling to face the divide
On the bullet teeth break
As devastion fear leaves in its wake
Unable now to face tomorrow
Refusing to take that which is hard to swallow
Impending doom now closing in
On he who shuts himself in
To run and hide, to run and hide
Will only a little time bide
Till your fears you will face
As you are caught by your greatest test
Strong man strong man
Now too weak to stand
To run and hide
Will with defeat concide
Strong man strong man
Now too weak to stand
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Me and Them
Why me, why them,
Why them, why me.
Just answer my question eh!
Bully me, bully them,
Bully them, bully me.
Maybe a her,
Maybe a he.
Peace for me, peace for them,
Peace for them, peace for me,
There's someone out there.
For everybody.
poem by Tom Ashman
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No repentance
Be it a fight or a dispute,
The weak is conscious of the strong.
The weak will cursingly give up.
The strong will guiltlessly wind up.
07.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I had my bully, and it was excruciating. Not only the bully, but the intimidation I felt.
quote by Robert Cormier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The strong will protect the weak and, in return, the weak will serve the strong.
Those who were cowards never started, and those who were weak were lost on the way, but the brave find a home in every land.
quote by Walter Knott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bullies On Vacation
A bully enjoying his vacation
Oblivious to all our confrontations
Speaking fondly of his junior years
When I was fighting tears
A bully enjoying his vacation
I can taste the anger and the hate
I have come to set the record straight
Twenty years seems long enough to wait
A bully enjoying his vacation
Cruising with my nemesis on high seas
Five drinks, he doesnt recognize me
Full of anticipation
I dont notice his depression
Cruising with my nemesis on high seas
My act of concern is just to tease
Im about to send him to his knees
So close to force him begging please
He mentions terminal disease
A bully enjoying his vacation
And how he feels someone is dangling
His vile existence on a string
And now the sea hes conquering
Knows he can conquer anything
A bully enjoying his vacation
Aware of his terminal condition
Frustrated by my indecision
Knowing Id regret this very day
I hit him anyway
Aware of his terminal condition
Once again, he got the best of me
I left him conquering the sea
A bully enjoying his vacation
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plus and minus
The brave reign over slaves;
Slaves submit to the brave.
The strong prevail on the weak;
The weak succumb to the strong
Woman is brave.
Man is strong.
Both rule each other.
one mentally and
the other physically.
Harmony wheels
02.10.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Neighborhood Bully
Well, the neighborhood bully, hes just one man,
His enemies say hes on their land.
They got him outnumbered about a million to one,
He got no place to escape to, no place to run.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
The neighborhood bully just lives to survive,
Hes criticized and condemned for being alive.
Hes not supposed to fight back, hes supposed to have thick skin,
Hes supposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
The neighborhood bully been driven out of every land,
Hes wandered the earth an exiled man.
Seen his family scattered, his people hounded and torn,
Hes always on trial for just being born.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Well, he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized,
Old women condemned him, said he should apologize.
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad.
The bombs were meant for him.
He was supposed to feel bad.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim
That hell live by the rules that the world makes for him,
cause theres a noose at his neck and a gun at his back
And a license to kill him is given out to every maniac.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
He got no allies to really speak of.
What he gets he must pay for, he dont get it out of love.
He buys obsolete weapons and he wont be denied
But no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Well, hes surrounded by pacifists who all want peace,
They pray for it nightly that the bloodshed must cease.
Now, they wouldnt hurt a fly.
To hurt one they would weep.
They lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Every empire thats enslaved him is gone,
Egypt and rome, even the great babylon.
Hes made a garden of paradise in the desert sand,
In bed with nobody, under no ones command.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Now his holiest books have been trampled upon,
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on.
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth,
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
Whats anybody indebted to him for?
Nothin, they say.
He just likes to cause war.
Pride and prejudice and superstition indeed,
They wait for this bully like a dog waits to feed.
Hes the neighborhood bully.
What has he done to wear so many scars?
Does he change the course of rivers?
Does he pollute the moon and stars?
Neighborhood bully, standing on the hill,
Running out the clock, time standing still,
Neighborhood bully.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, The Sermons!
Season aren’t feasible
By the duress of convention
And no conclusion is without bias.
Conclusions could be geographical!
The strong are the weak
The weak are the weak
They have lost nothing
And are still no champions.
The weak are no heroes
The weak could never dare for will
The strong are comforted by memories
The act of memory transcending
The submerged to trance.
But that precarious art would
Ever dilapidate earth.
True will original mentor
The strong can resume from their pause.
It only takes the fallen to
Uphold a belief. You alone can
Describe what is in it.
Oh, don’t you see? Don’t you see?
Let the laughter of babies inspire you
They laugh without restriction.
Adults laugh half way
Adults are always hampered by sorrow
They only go for laughter evanescent
There is still a vacuum
And nothing fits this vacuum
But the vacuum wasn’t there in childhood
Babies have will
But adults never know when
Such absconds
Oh, where are the sermons of life?
We know in life,
some seasons are more dominant.
poem by Nichola Okoro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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