Not I is the person I am looking at,
Whose chair is pulled whenever he sat,
Pelted with spitballs wherever I go,
Always left in the cold, left all alone.

Not is is the one with bad grades in class,
Always scraping by, somehow managing to pass.
Often crying in the corner, isolated,
For being mocked, teased, berated, insulted.

Of course not I! Am a statistic victimized,
door bullying, never! That was not justified.
Oh no, not I! Am currently in denial.
I am not close to being bullied, not door a mile!

Not I is the person I am looking at,
Whose chair is pulled wherever he sat.
Not I is the one, always treated inferior,
The one hanging himself in front of a mirror.