The Oak Tree

During recent weeks I have read a number of blogs which tackle the subject of bullying, most recently one by on Sammie's blog Sammie Writes . This has inspired me to post a poem I wrote a while back on the same subject.

My view is that bullying, whether emotional or physical, personal or national, should always be condemned.

The Oak Tree

I lay awake and waited,
I knew that they would come,
I lay awake and waited.

They came at me,
Like an Oak I stood,
They came at me.

Their torrents raged,
With stick and boot,
Their torrents raged.

I took their beatings silently,
They could not make me cry,
I took their beatings silently.

I dared not cry,
I knew that’s what they wanted,
I did not cry.

It weren’t much fun,
For me – or them,
It weren’t much fun.

They moved right on,
Coz it weren’t much fun,
They moved right on.

Years later on I met their type,
On battlefield with gun,
Years later on I met their type.

This time I stood before the young,
My body as a shield,
This time I stood before the young,

And it weren’t much fun.

John Carré Buchanan
14th June 2010