School bully, if such an award that year
He'd have won it hands down.
Though rarely were they down. Instead
Usually around somebody's throat,
Shaking small boys like rag dolls
Before hurling them to the ground.
Sensitive quiet loners were his favourites,
Those unlikely to tell their dads.
I never did understand why a bad mood meant
He'd have to take it out on someone smaller.
Never picking on somebody his own size,
Allways keeping an eye out for potential victims.
A role I filled frequently,
A target for venting his frustrations.
I was relieved when I moved up to the big school,
For he went to a different seat of learning.
Apparently Headmaster was a promotion hard to resist...