This is the poem which the children interpreted in their paintings and drawings.
Help me understand how you feel . . .what colour would you say bullying is to you ?
What is its colour ?
It’s burning red with the shame
Yes, the shame . . . and their sharp taunts.
And it’s the scarlet flames that rip me open.
Its colour ?
Surely their poison is sickening yellow.
And it’s the rotten, stinking green pus bursting out
Whatever I do or say, anytime, any day …
It’s filth obvious, my shame bottomless.
It’s brown with the stench of decay,
Violent brown that oozes
From every hurt they punish me with.
No, it’s the palest, coldest frigid blue – cold to the core and
Numbing every second. No escape, no relief –
They are always there in my thoughts, wiping away,
Freezing away any glimmer of hope.
Its deadening silence is black.
It’s thick, choking black which smothers and imprisons –
A black that swallows me whole,
Black which bites, chews away
And spits me out.
The hole I crave to crawl into and cry is black.
Black, the colour I hide in.
I live in the deepest purple shadows. But
Feel my unhappiness, touch my colours.
Celebrate they are not yours,
For I am alone, distanced from you
Other than you.
Touch my colours, try your hardest –
you will never feel them.
Help me understand how you feel . . .what colour would you say bullying is to you ?
What is its colour ?
It’s burning red with the shame
Yes, the shame . . . and their sharp taunts.
And it’s the scarlet flames that rip me open.
Its colour ?
Surely their poison is sickening yellow.
And it’s the rotten, stinking green pus bursting out
Whatever I do or say, anytime, any day …
It’s filth obvious, my shame bottomless.
It’s brown with the stench of decay,
Violent brown that oozes
From every hurt they punish me with.
No, it’s the palest, coldest frigid blue – cold to the core and
Numbing every second. No escape, no relief –
They are always there in my thoughts, wiping away,
Freezing away any glimmer of hope.
Its deadening silence is black.
It’s thick, choking black which smothers and imprisons –
A black that swallows me whole,
Black which bites, chews away
And spits me out.
The hole I crave to crawl into and cry is black.
Black, the colour I hide in.
I live in the deepest purple shadows. But
Feel my unhappiness, touch my colours.
Celebrate they are not yours,
For I am alone, distanced from you
Other than you.
Touch my colours, try your hardest –
you will never feel them.