Dreams

A poem I wrote first semester, it is about a fictional victim and a fictional bully. I will admit now it is a little pessimistic, but it isn't my voice that thinks that, it is his.

 

At three o’clock it was going to happen,

He was going to battle with me.

School-fights were highlights of the week,

If not month.

 

And although I am only small,

And have little chance,

I believe in myself.

I can weave spells,

I can bend time;

My power is unlimited.

I wouldn’t let him cheat.

I wouldn’t let him have my answers.

It’s always the small things that we small things have to do.

The illusion of power.
Won’t let them copy.

Don’t let them get to you.

 

It’s never easy though,

Not when they have the real power.

 

If I had friends

I’m sure they would talk me out of it.

But I know I can win,

Because I believe I can.

Because in my dreams I do.

I see him in the distance,

I weave spells that will bind him,

Constrict.

Make his clothes cling tight,

Stiffen so he can’t walk.

I project glamours of myself,

Bigger,

Stronger.

 

He walks towards me.

I throw everything I have,

Pour into him my fears,

Make his tangible.

All of my power stretched and taut,

And he walks through it all unscathed.

 

Of course magic never worked,

Not outside my head.

 

In the real world,

When you wish on a star,

It never comes true. And

When you dream your dreams,

You wake up disappointed.

 

In the real world,

The magic in my head,

Couldn’t even fool me.

 

It still hurts,

                      It will always hurt