Children's Services


Winners of 2012 Anti-Bullying Poetry Competition (Archive)

Holly felt ...


Bullying Hurts

If only ...

Being a Friend


The Person ...

Sticks ‘n Stones


My Day

Holly felt ...

... scared when they pulled

... sad when they kicked

... terrified when they pushed

... nasty when they hit

... bad when they whispered.

Now she is happy because she went to tell.

Make sure you tell someone!!

By Alana, Tallulah and Ella, Year 1

Knightwood Primary School

Back to top

Bullying Hurts

You make me shout and always cry.

Why won’t you please just tell me why.

You always think you’re really cool.

Don’t you know, you’re just a fool.

I know that you are jealous of me.

I wish that you’d just leave me be.

Never before have I felt such pain.

I wonder if it’s your middle name.

You think I’m weak but really I’m strong.

The things you do are truly wrong.

Today I’m going to tell someone.

Then your evil plan will be undone.

By Sarah McArdle, Year 4

Ranvilles Junior School

Back to top

Being a Friend

Really likes Sian

Interested in jokes

Caring for his family and me

He always likes to be around me

And when he sees me he runs to me

Really happy

Dancing around

By Sian Wilson

Queen Mary’s College, Foundation Learning Department

Back to top

The Person ...

The person you called four eyes yesterday is smashing their glasses.

The person you called ginger the other day is now secretly dyeing their hair.

The person you called fat last week won’t eat their food.

The person you punched yesterday is now covered in bruises.

The person you kicked the other day is now on crutches.

The person you pushed over last week now has their arm in a sling.

The person you sent a threatening text to yesterday is now deleting all their contacts.

The person you sent an abusive email to the other day is now destroying their computer.

The person you left a racist voice mail for last week is now trying to change themselves.

The person you have been bullying for the last couple of years has just now tried to commit suicide and is now in a mental hospital with critical injuries...

It doesn’t cost to BE a bully but it DOES to be a victim.

By Lauren Phang and Alex Mansfield,Year 6

Newtown Primary School,Gosport

Back to top


I saw her in the morning

They threw her books in the dirt

But it’s none of my business.

I saw her in the afternoon

Crying alone in the toilets

But it’s none of my business.

I saw her walking home

They followed her, throwing insults

But it’s none of my business.

I saw her every day

They did too, kept on and on and on

But it’s none of my business.

I didn’t see her today

She gave up, couldn’t deal with it

She’s gone

She’s left school

She’s happy now

It was my business.

By Katie Niekirk, Year 8

Hounsdown Secondary School

Back to top


(I wrote this poem after my Dad told me a story about him at school.  A boy called Darren would find him each day and kick him really hard in the shins.  He did it for almost a year.  The poem is in two halves.  The first half is the victim; the second half is the bully.)

First half.....

I sat there.

My heart rate was rapidly rising

As I was waiting for him to come

And hurt me.

I waited there, petrified.

My friends wouldn’t stand in for me

As they had experienced

The same pain before.

There I was, sat all alone,

In the very corner

Of the monstrous playground.

His playground.

There he was,

Standing with nine, maybe ten cowards.

Coming towards me in no hurry.

He stood over me.

I felt like a tourist scared of heights,

At the bottom of the Eiffel tower.

He hurt me, as usual.

Tears trickling, I stood up.

Back to my class line,

My break time task was done.

I went home.

‘Don’t suffer in silence.’

Told my parents.

They said to tell my teacher.

I told the teacher.

She told Darren

And he got well told off!

So he was well annoyed.

The next time he saw me,

It hurt, harder than usual.

I spoke to my Auntie, who told me

That I must be confident in myself,

trust myself, back myself.

I was a tiger, a great silverback gorilla.

A bear!

Yes a bear, I liked that.

I practised in the mirror, standing tall,

Being big, having a frightening look in my eyes.

He was going to be petrified of this

It could work.

It would work.

Second half...

You could ask me why,

But I couldn’t answer.

It is just what I do,

Every break time,

Without fail.

Sometimes if I am busy,

I will get it over and done with early,

But if I want him to stew a little,

I will wait almost to the whistle.

I don’t know why

I get upset,

Frustrated, annoyed.

No one plays with me like the other boys and

the teachers tell me off for no reason.

If I get it out of my system at break time

I usually have a better lesson.

Why him?  Why not?

He never complains.

I wish we were friends, but it has gone past   


I can tell by looking

Into his despairing, pleading eyes.

He hates me.

I don’t  know why I do it, I just do.

He hates me.

I hate me.

He is my only friend.

I can’t believe he told on me.

I got him good and proper,

Right at the end of play.

He won’t tell again.

I saw him today.

He looked different; his eyes.

He wasn’t really scared of me anymore,

In fact I was starting to make me


Then I went to kick him,


He shouted at me real loud.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

He looked like a giant bear.


More confident, I felt miniscule.

He was no longer my easy target.

By Robert Brooks, Year 7

Ringwood School

Back to top

If only ...

I knew a charming boy once,

A rather long time ago,

But covered with pain and torment,

His life, away he did throw.

Name calling, messages,

He had heard it all,

Even letters through his door,

A cry of help, never was called.

Teasing pulling faces,

Being so immature,

No-one missed him that day at school,

But he was found hanging at his door.

There so all could see ...

“Love me for who I am, or not at all!”

A sign dangled from his neck,

So many the cause, for such a costly fall.

Every passing year,

On this same, sad day,

I visit his grave

Where he will always lay.

I delivered flowers,

White lilies always,

Reminiscing over my childhood,

Wishing I could return to those days.

If only I had said ‘No’,

Did not laugh or encourage,

But defended and protected,

I did so much wrong.

If only ...

By Danielle Simpson

Brune Park

Back to top


Why do you hurt me?

What did I do?

Is it because I’m smaller than you?

I play the piano but that can’t be why.

Is it my singing?  I really do try.

Perhaps it’s because of the way I look?

Or is it because I read a book?

When we were together, I used to smile

And weren’t we the very best friends for a while?

I try to be brave but sometimes I cry.

I say I’m okay- well, that’s just a lie.

Mummy can see that a friendship’s gone bad.

We have a hug and a chat and I don’t feel so sad.

By Katie Brennan, Year 3

Halterworth Primary School

Back to top

Sticks ‘n Stones

Sticks ‘n stones may break my bones

But your words will always haunt me.

I’m too scared to go to school

Afraid that you may taunt me.

When you call me nasty names

I believe that they are true

I beg you bully stop playing your games

What have I ever done to you?

Bully, please, I don’t understand

Why you hurt me on purpose.

You make me feel like a grain of sand!

Tiny, alone and worthless.

I sit in my room, crying in gloom

And my mother asks me why.

I tell her that, “I just feel sad”,

But we both know that’s a lie.

When you are near, I tremble in fear!

And I keep looking behind me.

I am too scared, to go find my friends

Because they always help you find me.

I feel so low, with nowhere to go

Because you always follow.

I hope you find some good in your heart

But I feel your heart is hollow.

Bully, stop, take a walk with me

And you can wear my shoes.

Because if you were me, you would se

How much your bullying can bruise.

Bullying is abusing and it’s not amusing

When you’re the victim, they are choosing.

This was me, three years ago

Three years later, the scars still show.

But I told my teacher one day,

So boys and girls I can safely say

If you tell someone to help it stop

Your scars will fade away.

By Joanna Rose Remnant

Itchen Sixth Form College

Back to top

My Day

Waking up, feeling of fright

Didn’t have a second of sleep

   last night ...

Face is pale, feel constantly sick –

I’m sure this bully thinks I’m thick!

Walk out the door, names have begun –

Geek: fat.  Oh what fun!

I try to resist but just can’t ignore

When I’m at school there will be more

  and more!

Step in the gate; my eyes starting to


This is the start of my constant nightmare,

Hundreds of stones, thrown at my

  face –

Running as fast as a bolt in a race!

I get away, sit in Tutor alone:

Everyone’s chatting, I’m dreaming of


Wish I was different, someone who’s


Dreaming of an easy life, when I’m at


The bell rings, I tip toe out to break.

They attack me like a lion eating a


Punched, kicked, all happens to me –

If you could hear, you would soon see

They keep me silent and watch me eat

But when I’m finished they give me the


Break ends and I’m in tears,

How long will it last – days, weeks,


Hurt, cut,

Bruised, bleeding

The bullies are all slowly succeeding;

Limp back to class, won’t make a scene

Sit at the back, why are bullies so


Shivering with fear, just can’t tell:

I’m now in the living hell.

School ends, I sprint out the gate.

I have to go, before it’s too late!

They’d chase me home, all the way.

As much as I try I just can’t say

If I dared it would just get worse.

Why me?  Am I under a curse?

Mum asks me “How was your day?”.

I say I’m fine, but I’m not O.K.

Things need to change, it can’t stay

  the same.

I can’t help it, but I’m acting so lame.

I got a grip and told my friends

Now the bullying is starting to end.

Feeling positive, no time to lack.

Now I’ve got people, watching my back.

Say bye to the bullies feeling better

  than ever.

Life is easy, when you’re working


My advice to you, stand up for yourself.

Or it will change you forever, including your health.

Let’s end the bullies now, there is just

  no need.

If we all work together we’re sure to


By Emma-Jane May & Ellie Ward,

Year 10, Henry Cort Community


Back to top