we had a third grade
bully who kicked our
shins with her
wooden clogs
and pulled our hair
so we came up
with a plan to
steal her lunch
tickets she
bought on
Mondays for
35 cents each
and turned in for
the count each
day
she was a
child of addiction
poverty without
a mother ~ but a
grandmother
raising her
working hard
to make ends
meet for this
girl, angry at
the world
and not enough
clogs and
shins to fix it
and now
that I see life
from this side
I feel
deep sorrow
for our theft
because we
only hurt
grandma
and our
future
selves
who would
come to
know the
truth
Common Threads 
This poem hits hard. We do grow up and become better, but still live with the guilt of past missteps. You didn’t know. Forgive yourself.
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Thank you, Margaret. You put it in perspective of the child’s world of not knowing, and I appreciate your nudge toward forgiveness of self. And the clog kicking bully.
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Kim, I sometimes wish I could go back and redo. I was one of the hurting/fearful/angry bullies, like the shin kicking girl. Wow…this is so powerful…
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