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That Girl, What’s Her Name
Linda Hundley
Your clothes are ugly, you’re stupid, you’re fat!
You smell like a cow, you’re as blind as a bat.
They called her names, they slapped, they hit,
Until she understood she’d never fit.
She tried to tell others of the meanness of some
But no one believed her, not teachers, not mom.
She slowly began to withdraw from her world.
She believed what they said, she was a nothing girl.
She took the abuse until tears wouldn’t come
And life became awful and she became glum.
Until finally one night in total despair
She went to her room and she died in there.
Everyone was shocked, but who was to blame?
She was always so quiet. That girl, what’s her name?
“Not us!” said the adults who were part of her life
Too busy to notice her pain and her strife.
“Not me!” Said the bully who continually hit her.
“Not us!” Said the kids whose words were so bitter.
“Not us”. Said the kids who never asked why
As they watched the abuse from the others nearby.
“Not us!” Said the kids that laughed at her shame.
So glad it wasn’t them, but that girl, what’s her name?
If only one person had stopped to discover
The beauty within that hated had covered.
It’s easy to look the other way
When someone’s hurt by what others say.
It’s easy to ignore the colors of a bruise
The scars left behind from physical abuse.
It’s easy to pretend that it’s not your fight
When a bully’s cruelty comes to light.
A bully only rules when no one stands tall,
To stop the hurting once and for all.
If you see the signs of someone in pain
Don’t stand by the side and let the bully reign.
Take a stand and become the voice
Of someone made silent and given no choice.
The ripple of death of someone so young
Has a way of affecting almost everyone.
The moral of this story I’m sad to say
The price of abuse is a high price to pay.
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