You pushed her down,

In the hallway,

And said it was accident,

When she twisted her ankle.

You pushed her up against,

Her locker,

While everyone was in lunch,

And she winced,

When she carried her backpack,

For the rest of the week.

You thought she would stay down,

Her eyes bent towards her converse,

But you don’t know her,

And so you didn’t know,

She was tougher than the rest.

When you called her,

Fat,

Ugly,

Misfit,

Nerd,

You didn’t see,

Her fists clenching,

And her eyes burning,

Because you,

Never could,

Put out her fire,

And that,

Made you the angriest of all.

And when she came home,

With bruises wrists,

And cried into her pillow,

She was still not broken.

The next day,

She walked into school,

And you didn’t dare,

Lay a finger on her,

Because you finally saw,

What everyone else did:

She was tougher than the rest.

You had tried to break her,

To hurt her with words,

And punches,

And you had for a while,

But you never understood,

That some people,

Will bend,

And will take the beating,

If it means,

Someone else,

Won’t feel it.

So you finally know,

That not everyone,

Will break,

And that some people,

Don’t need to see your pain,

To know that it is there,

And so in the end,

She taught you,

That the most strong people,

Came through the fire,

The beating,

And the bruising,

Because all the strongest people,

Shattered once.