here is a poem i started in school, found it when clearing out, i just tidyed it up a little.

Being clever isnt all good
when the b.o repulsive steals your food
kicks you down for your money
then has the cheek to think its funny

sure im not the handsome kid
been beaten up for a couple of quid
so i kick back and throw a punch
and sit hungry and sore, through lunch

teachers listen? - ha that be right
they just walk past two kids in a fight
broken, that was my favourite toy
scared for life by the snot eating boy

so i plan my final attack
gather my mates, my pride and my baseball bat
i sense a moment we went for the kill
until it all went sour, at the end of lunch bell

we knew where he lived so we camped out the night
plotting to attack him at the dawns light
he knew we were there, he was so scared
but the tears in his eyes, my the tables had turned.

So i left him alone to pursue my studies
and could smell his fear sourcing from his undies
I stopped the attack in fear of sin
for the realisation, i was becoming like him