When I scurry down the long, never ending hallways of high school,

I see a scrawny boy with perfectly rounded metal glasses, a pair of raggedy blue overalls, worn-out light blue sketchers tennis shoes, and a superman roller backpack to match his “nerdy” ensemble.

I see him being shoved violently against the once bare white walls now stained with red from the blood dripping from his nose,

I see papers dispersed across the ground as the horrid one steps on his trigonometry homework.

I see other students stroll on by as if they were a bug attracted to light and refused to actually look at what was directly in front of them.

When I hear the soft weeping of the boy as he lay on the ground like a helpless creature,

I pause for a moment, not knowing exactly what to do.

I hear the sound of metal as his glasses plummet to the ground after being brutally punched in the face,

And a loud crunch following after as his spectacles are crushed by the bully’s colossal feet.

I hear the laughter of the coterie of upper classmen as they continue to walk by with their posy,

Snickering at the poor boy that lay lonesome on the bitter, hard ground.

When I smell the rancid odor of the sweaty, corpulent athlete as he just finished wrestling practice,

Pushing and shoving everything in his way to find his next victim to torcher.

I smell the fear of the victim as if it was a heavy scent ascending from his trembling body.

When I feel the cold, clammy hands of the victim as I help him up,

It is as if every bit of pain he went through was transmitted directly to my heart.

No longer will I be abetting the harshness of bullying by standing by and watching.

Today I stand up, tomorrow I stand up, forever I will stand up.