Taunting

• Samantha Wood, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2007

They always picked on her
Was this their game?
She took their taunts,
Begged and pleaded for it to stop
"No, we like it alot."

She went home puffy eyed
Wanting to end it all
For her heart to stop being sore.

Her mother work early,
Tossing and turning.
She walked slowly
To her beautiful child's door
And then fell to the floor.

There was her daughter,
So pale and white,
She had ened the taunting during the night.