I am the bullied man, and I am proud.I am the bullied man, and I am so aloneIt is a contradiction—in me;In my heart it is a dichotomy. If I was strong they would not have gotten to me.Without strength, with darkness in my soul,They came for me. They are cowards.I had been friendly to them all.Why didn't they come for the others who were stronger?Why me? I could not believe that it was happening to me.Because of them, because of their indifference or hatefulness, I became small and weak and dark inside, And my mind became as hollow as a drum.  The words beat at my ears like humming bees, Buzzing about my head like angry hornets: “Loser! Loser! Loser!” Their hatred went into me like rain through dry ground; It washed over me like waves against the shoreline; My insides shriveled up like celery left in water—dry; Then withered and sodden; then dead; then rotten. I am the bullied man, and I am proud. I am the bullied man, yes, I know that they will win…