The Passersby

A boy was crossing the staircase 

But bumped into a group

As heavy as he was,

Shot with comments of a truck tyre falling

On the poor passersby

Didn't quite like it, tried to comeback

With "sarcastic comments

 To outsmart bullies",

Something he searched for 

Just the previous sleepless midnight 

He tried to do the best savagery

But a shoe came out of the blue

And smacked him fallen onto the ground

With pricking laughter piercing within.

He trod home troubled with terror

And overthought the whole live day

To complain seemed a child's play

And to appear helpless was sheer dismay.

And so he went to the school, the tyre went back,

Thoughtless still,

Yet so brave in appearance.

Pretending to ignore, to not care,

While contemplating replies

To the constant dares.

And soon did he notice

That more had joined

To relish laughs out of his bulky misery.

And thinking happened again

And mocking happened again

And each night and day happened again 

So different the calendar said

Yet all the same, perhaps each day worse

Than the worst of yesterday

Still wondering what to say

For excuses of illness didn't work,

Promises and bets never did work,

And nothing stopped the mocking bird.

There were pictures drawn

And enjoyment fair

Glasses smudged 

And jokes shared,

All with a pretense of deep ignorance

While words kept winning the war within.

And finally did he confront,

Not others but himself, the tyre,

The elephant, the hippo, the cow, the him

That normalcy is but no judgment

And the zoos did fit, the tyres still called,

Each staircase brimmed with grinning passersby,

Just the words now mattered a tad bit less,

Attacked and hurt a tad bit less, a very tad less,

And now, he grew used to them

Used to the badgering words and howls

Used to sharpened words so foul,

Used to, not relieved, they say,

Because not all stories end in happy days.

Not mine atleast.