I’d kept the wheels off my mum’s old baby pram
in our back garden intending to make a
wooden go-cart for my two younger brothers.

One day they came running home and the youngest
aged about five had the makings of a black eye
the flesh above it, swelling. My other brother
was around seven and not a fighter.
I was their big sis aged about eleven.

I was never a fighter, a complete novice
when it came to violence, having a bully
for a step-father I’d seen enough of
anger, destruction of our home and, of
walking on egg shells around his moods
in case we set him off on one
so yeah,
I was not a fighter


could not stand by and see my young brothers
bullied by a bigger boy of my age either.
Besides which, he’d stolen our wheels.

My two brothers crying, the three of us
reached the bullies house but he was across
the road in a field playing with, our wheels.

Quietly I told him they were ours and had
been stolen from our back yard.
He denied it, swore and shouted me down
so, I ignored him and reached
to take back what was ours.

I didn’t see it coming
with my brothers watching closely
his fist slammed into my lips and then
his fists rained down on me again and again
I found myself fighting to protect my face
from a further sear of blinding pain.

A crowd gathered around to watch this spectacle
and I was struggling with this bully
trying to hold off his blows
whilst trying with one hand to also stop my pants from
dropping down around my knees because the
button had fallen off them long ago and
tearing into me he’d ripped off the safety pin
which had been holding them up.

What a mess.

The crowd of kids were shouting
‘Go on, get him Bren.’
I don’t even remember what happened
but somehow I managed to beat him off
whatismore, seemed to win the fight.

He quit trying to beat me
and we walked away with our wheels.
My two brothers were amazed
and, so was I.

One big fat bloody lip, a few cuts, bruises later
I looked much worse for the wear
but, was a hero in my younger brother’s eyes.

We did make a great go-cart too!


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

I don’t agree with fighting at all but, sometimes you have to make a stand and do what is right for those you love. I was so upset that my youngest brother of five had a black eye and neither of them deserved to lose those wheels to a bully of my size and age.
Bullying is so difficult to tackle because there are no rules. Adults seem helpless to help kids who are bullied because usually parents of these bullies are bullies themselves and don’t see a problem with that type of behaviour. All I know is, you have to stand up for what is right and take back your power from anyone who steals it by bullying.
Who knows, maybe God was on my side…. LOL

Shared with Three Word Wednesday #CCLXXIII Flesh, Novice, Sear
Poetry Jam Bully

Author: Daydreamer

I live on a beautiful island in Atlantic Canada.

22 thoughts on “Bully”

  1. What a wonderful big sister you were..good for you. Your brothers probably never forgot that day. There’s a big campaign going on in the U.S. against bullying. It’s gotten very bad with even some children committing suicide because of ongoing teasing…it takes a terrible toll on its victims. Bullies are usually cowards though and will often back down when challenged. If we all stood up for the underdogs, the world would be a much better place. We need more people like you, Bren.

  2. Having back up never hurts either, if all bystanders helped out, the bully would never exist. Thanks for sharing this.

  3. A difficult aspect of the problem. Some who ‘stand up for themselves’ may never be bullied again. Others may have to pay a much more terrible price. You were brave…..and lucky.

  4. What a courageous girl. What you did was fight, and as you said fighting is not right, but you gifted your brothers a handful of integrity with such a diligent show. I’m sure that they are quite proud to have you as a sister, I know I would be. 🙂

  5. … and then there was the time when my mumme had to buy a whole new outfit for a certain sissy bully in my class …years later I ran into him … he turned into a real nice guy (probably because of the lesson I taught him way back when … he he)

  6. He left you alone … but I’m sure he terrorized others. I am so glad your brothers saw you stick up for them. I’m sure they never forgot it. (and that go-cart looks amazing!

  7. Sometimes the best way to stop a bully is to stand your ground…I’ve found most bullies tend to be cowards at heart who prey on those they think are weaker. Very nicely written!

  8. Yep … taking back the power is what it’s all about! I really enjoyed reading your description of that event! I think you were/are amazing …

  9. I nice blending of poetry and prose. One of the only times I was ever violent as a kid was when someone stole my sister’s money.

  10. I agree with you on standing up for yourself and fighting for it. My children had similar experiences too and I was supportive of their actions. Hey, you are a tough lady ~

    Cheers ~

  11. Beauty, how brave of you. Esecially sweet that you risked injury
    for another. Written beautifully, btw.

  12. You don’t have to throw a punch to be a fighter..(learning to dodge them usually accomplishes that) although when needs be..a moment to be proud of..and that safety pin..so poignant..Jae

  13. Your poem/story goes to show that when bullies are stood up to, they usually stop. It’s so hard to take back your own power once someone takes it from you, though. That’s what was the worst for me. The feeling of powerlessness is soul crushing.

  14. oh wow bren…remind me never to mess with you…smiles…sometimes you do have to stand up for yoruself…and then they lose interest because they are just looking for the easy catch to build their self esteem…

  15. I agree sometimes you have to make a stand and when it comes to family younger brothers or sisters the need just slips in there to protect them.

  16. Excellent, Bren. You do have to stand up for what is right; and you do have to take back your power from anyone who tries to steal it from you! What you did was hard, but right; though dangerous. You definitely were a hero(ine) in your brothers’ eyes; and glad you did make that go cart. Your poem brought two instances from my childhood to mind..thank you. I may write another poem!

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