Ballad of Donnie and Bill ~ A Collaboration with This Mortal Flesh

The fat kid tired young
a jester large upon their stage
the butt of cruel humor
but laughter fuels the rage
so he sought an understudy
to upon the platform place
a weaker target than he
to before their eyes disgrace

No one ever sees at play
meek among the classes
he hides beneath his grey cloud
a hooded lad with thick rimmed glasses
avoids the crowds as a shadow
now becomes a puppet on a string
the day that fate delivered him
to a bully with a sting

A crowded cafeteria
would rightly set the scene
the fatboy set his scowling gaze
on little Billy Dean
the glasses from his face he took
and ketchup lined the rims
then quickly yanked poor Billy’s pants
to the ground around his shins

Laughter rang bouncing off the walls
a deer caught in lights
Billy froze to scraps of food being tossed
as a stream of urine caught every ones sights
wetness stained his underpants
he stepped to run but fell
to the sounds of profanity
that echoed like a pounding bell

The fat kid’s heart it raced and broke
he knew this pain too well
how could he have become the means
to send this boy to hell
he laughed as if to play it off
Donnie flexed a smirky smile
at home that night he couldn’t sleep
his holed heart could find no spile

Street lights flooding in from the window
Donnie saw the images float in his mind
they danced across the bedroom ceiling
and realized, they’re two of a kind
yet he stood above Billy Dean looking down
to cover up his own selfish pride
and mask his insecurities
as two spirits, just died

Conclusions came on restless sleep
tomorrow he’d make it right
through hallowed school halls he searched
all day, but Billy was nowhere in sight
that evening Donnie’s mother asked
if he’d known this boy from class
whose grieving mother found him dead
wrists shredded by mirrored glass

Donnie’s eyes welled up with tears
his chest caved in, his heart sank
he ran and ran and ran and ran
chubby rosie cheeks faded to a pale blank
he stood on a bridge, freeway cars whizzing by
looking down wondering what hell is like
as he fell to the pavement below
he yelled, “I’m Sorry Billy” as another tragic end strikes

A Collaboration by This Mortal Flesh and Ax

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

it is an honor to write this piece with you, it flowed from the start, every word and line trailed with so much ease that it could only be written by experience. We shared a bond here, one that I will never forget.
Thank you for trusting me and for releasing memories. I hope one day, no child, no one, would ever be bullied in any way or form.

Matt, please forgive me, I decided not to use the photos and to let our words stand alone.

To our fellow bloggers/poets/writers, thank you for your visit. I hope you take this piece for what it is. A message of hope and love.
Matthew is This Mortal Flesh
Please head over to this soulful genius, read his amazing works, say hello. You will be more than pleased when you take in his poetry…it is exquisite.

Peace and Love


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