The Day We Buried Our Bully
Inspirational Poem — Fear is the reason why the man under the scorching sun thinks the man in the chilled office is the boss.
On that day suddenly,
It started to rain heavily.
It rained so hard I couldn’t hear a thing
nor was I able to see anything besides
water droplets falling off the clouds.
The rain slapped down my hand — hard,
as I tried to reach through to let my fingers play.
“Oops, Not friendly!” I exclaimed.
I wished the rain met me at home; on my couch;
I would hold my pillow so — so tight…
Awn! what a life!
In a few minutes, the rain stopped
and the cloud resolved.
The track home was as dry as dust
as if it had never poured.
“This is crazy”, I whispered fast as
I walked hurriedly through the track, home.
Home in sight,
a large number of heads flocked around our neighbourhood.
“It must be a fight” I assured myself.
Alas! It wasn’t what I thought it was;
the bully of our neighbourhood was dead.
O’ dear hood,
through years and years of bitter harassment
we tolerated his hideous deeds:
Girls abducted,
women molested,
boys assaulted,
and hefty men robbed.
Our fear made him master over us.
Just about when he would strike again,
he’s was no more.
We couldn’t wait another day to celebrate.
That day was the day.
We turned his corpse
into a piece of meat tucked within
the sandwich of soil
black like burnt toast
ready for ants and worms
to eat for breakfast;
to nourish the soil.
We laid wreaths of withered flowers
to fill his grave
with an odour of decay
wafted by the wind.
As mourners smiled
through tears of relief,
‘‘Lord! Take care of his Soul —
though he was but a bully.’’
