October is National Bullying Prevention Month. The fundamental organization,, founded this national campaign in 2005 in the United States to unite and educate communities nationwide on the prevention on bullying. The following textual evidence is taken directly from their website.

“PACER developed the initial campaign, National Bullying Prevention and Awareness Month, to raise awareness about bullying. Historically, bullying had been viewed as “a childhood rite of passage” that “made kids tougher,” but the reality has always been that bullying can leave devastating and often long-term effects such as a loss of self-esteem, increased anxiety, and depression for those involved. PACER reached out to the community through partnerships with education-based organizations such as the National PTA, the American Federation of Teachers and the National Education Association to provide schools, parents and students with the educational resources and support to better respond to bullying behavior. The National Bullying Prevention Center laid the groundwork so that National Bullying Prevention Month is now a nationwide call to action around educating communities as to their roles in bullying prevention. This initiative has helped shift thinking away from bullying as “rite of passage” and toward the knowledge that bullying can be prevented and stopped through education and awareness.”

I was bullied at the age of seven. My tormentors targeted me for two consecutive years and the emotional effects were detrimental to my self esteem. You could read more about my story by clicking here.

I have written a poem to honor not only that little girl inside of me who suffered immensely, but those who have fallen victim to bullying. My tormentors used words as their preferred weapon of choice. Writing is an art form that not only encourages creative expression, but aides in the process of self-reflection and emotional healing. Poetry is the avenue that gives me strength and allows me to cope with the struggles of my past.



Words were blasted,
causing destruction.

Painful diction,
formed wounds that stitches could not mend.

Ammunition through language,
pierced my internal worth.

The healing rivers from my eyes,
one day reached the core of my torment.

The agony transformed,
becoming my own creation of word artillery.

Artillery that uplifts and encourages,
transmitting light from darkness.

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