Some bullied dreams of justice in a poem

A cowards death imagined.

When I think of my bullies

The only happy thought

Is their neck

Swinging on a rope

Blood slipping out their mouth

Begging for mercy

Wishing

They had given it

To me.

When I think of their neck swing

I think of their eyes terrified

Haunted

Then I smile.

Now

They know reapeating

Dire memories over and over.

Like I repeat the memories they gave to me.

Now they know how to plead.

Death please quick.

Like I did.