I will place a hand on their shoulder
and firmly push them back;
No longer will they get to tell me
that I am nothing.
They shouldn’t have been able to
except I let their words encase;
I should have shoved and kicked
that still doesn’t make me something.
It doesn’t make me anything more
or make me any better.
You can’t fight hate with hate;
bruises for bruises will break the world’s bones;
ice the bruise, get up
For a bruise, give a glare -
for a broken bone, give a shout -
for an open wound, give a soliloquy -
for a murder, send an army;
But not to kill.
To make them learn.