Poetry

Bullies

I balance a penny on my fingers

The copper smell always lingers

When the devil hears your taunts and calls

My penny will not be the one that falls

 

Strong and robust is how it feels

Even if I end up skipping meals

For a second my penny loses balance

Then I remember the act of parlance

 

I roll it now, through my fingers again

Hiding out with in my little den

Your words will not harm me this time

I have my penny to help me climb

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