Poem : A Fairy Tale

A FAIRY TALE

“And because I sing and dance and am happy

They think they have done me no injury”

--William Blake (1757 – 1827) : “Songs of Innocence and of Experience.” (“The Chimney Sweeper”)

 

1^st stanza

It start’d slowly, it went on, it swell’d, it built up :

Ramm’d into me, bullying was to be my daily sup…..

Down my throat they shov’d a bitter meal :

Pitilessly they laugh’d, and revell’d at my ordeal.

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Introduction to the story. Backdrop to the bullying.

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2^nd

They ne’er let off, they ne’er gave me respite :

Towards me were they full of biting spite;

I ne’er harm’d them, I ne’er fought them,

But, daily upon me they foist’d mayhem.

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The continuing bullying. The girl never fought back. The daily attacks did not stop.

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3^rd

Even once I enjoy’d not my meal :

And, classes lost all sense, all appeal ;

Possess’d by the basest desires,

Towards me they fann’d cruel fires.

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The girl’s desperation. Everrything seemed gloomy. The cruelty of the classmates is exposed.

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4^th

I survey’d the room, I sought some solace :

They mock’d at me, they sneer’d to my face.

Without, so much politeness, so much order :

In here, my poor heart they rent asunder……

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The girl sought rescue silently. She makes a comparison with what happened outside the class. Outside, there was an air of orderliness, discipline, good behaviour. Stark contrast with the savagery in class.

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5^th

Tuitions sound’d hollow, “school” meant nothing :

Nay, recreation for me was not meant :

To their eyes, I was a mean miscreant :

At yon “school,” I enjoy’d not a thing.

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What was taught at school seemed pointless, in the circumstances. It all seemed ridiculous, hollow. Even recreation time was no relief. They never let off. She was treated as a defaulter. Notice the quotation marks around the word “school.” Bitter sarcasm. Her silence in the face of the attacks is pointed out.

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6^th

Others went to school everyday :

For me, ‘twas just hell, mayday…..

Everyday my heart cried out for pity :

Yet, they rag’d even more with insanity.

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Contrast with what life was reserved to other children. Pointing out that what was inflected upon her was hell. She cried silently. The others showed not the least pity. The whole system failed her.

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7^th

I was thrown to the wolves as dinner :

To them, my terrified look was a starter.

Not a soul was mov’d by my tearful looks :

They laugh’d as my tears ran into brooks.

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Metaphor of throwing a prey to a savage animal : the girl being thrown to wolves. Others revelled in her torment, her torture. Nobody did anything to stop the scandal. Some even laughed at her suffering. Had society outside something to do with this ?... Was there a similar environment outside ?...

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8^th

Corner’d by the wolf pack, my back to the wall,

I had no escape : to their tyranny I had to fall.

They hiss’d, they swore, they threaten’d :

To my supplications no one hearken’d.

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Those around are compared to a wolf pack, a ferocious lot, showing no pity for the tortured girl. She had no means of escaping from the torture. Adults must have been aware of the situation. To her supplications, no one listened.

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9^th

Of torture, they had master’d the habit :

I collaps’d : I shook like a panting rabbit.

My Mum struggl’d on, stay’d by my side :

We hop’d somehow would turn the tide.

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The word “torture” appears openly here. Note the word “master’d : the torture was perfected and repeated. The girl collapsed from the ordeal. She was terrified like a rabbit that was hunted. Her Mum was the only support. There was a silent hope that the tide would turn, that the brutality would stop.

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10^th

I was brand’d as the offender :

But, did I look like a war-monger ?

Ah, even publicly about me badly some wrote :

It broke my Mum’s heart : relief was remote…..

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The girl was passed off as an offender. But her looks really were those of an innocent little one. Adults even disparaged her; surely they listened to what the tormentors said. Her Mum’s heart broke from such attacks. Despair sets in.

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11^th

By the hordes was I hound’d :

By the villains was I surround’d :

They slamm’d me against the lockers :

How callously laugh’d on the onlookers !…..

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Those around looked like hordes that were out for hunts. They are also called villains. The girl was slammed against the lockers, while other rejoiced. Was it possible for such acts to go unnoticed, unknown to the managers ?...

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12^th

They enjoy’d such spectacles :

Only missing, some manacles…..

I look’d around : no rescue :

My isolation was their cue.

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The tormentors appeared to enjoy such sadistic acts. In a dark irony, in sarcasm, there is mention of manacles. The girl said how the situation was hopeless for her.

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13^th

What do they gain, what do they reap ?

Yet, more cruelty ‘pon me they heap.

At this age to be thus butcher’d :

For no crime, to be slaughter’d…..

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The girl asked herself what did the tormentors gain by such acts. She pointed out her tender age and said how the attacks were not justified.

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14^th

Bullying be torture : it wrench’d my soul everyday :

Some look’d the other way : just “tales” were my pleas :

For them, life was a smooth tide : for me, heavy seas :

Time and again, I fac’d the terror, some new affray.

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There is a direct comparison between the bullying and torture. It was torture hiding behind bullying. “Some look’d the other way” : clear indication that those around knew what was going on and did nothing effective to stop it. The bullying is compared to acts of terror.

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15^th

Those looking the other way were accomplices :

For them, not enough were my sacrifices :

I thought they would stop the butchery :

But, over cruelty they had mastery.

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The girl clearly accuses those who knew and who ignored the matter. Those who ignored the mistreatment are called accomplices. The systemic cruelty is mentioned.

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16^th

Afore me lay the bowl on the bed :

I threw up more than I consum’d :

My strength was spent : my vomit resum’d :

Only my Mum knew how my heart bled.

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The girl was taken to the hospital because of the repeated attacks. She vomited a lot. “more than I consum’d” : the amount of the vomit appeared to be higher that what she consumed. From the vomiting, she lost her strength. Only her Mum realised the scale of her suffering.

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17^th

With such bullying, the future was far from bright :

Nay, no joke did I find in this heart-rending plight :

‘Pon my faltering feet anew I struggl’d to stand :

Lo ! Rose at me again another treacherous hand !

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In the face of these attacks, the future seemed very bleak. These attacks were no jokes. The girl faltered on her feet. But the cruelty did not stop. Again other hit out at her.

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18^th

Now and anon I shake from the tremors, the shivers :

Pitilessly they forbad me to survive, to live like others :

From the dizziness, the weakness, my head would swirl :

Ah, be there no one in this land to rescue a poor girl ?.....

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Visions of the torture would flash back in her mind now and then. She was denied a living. The girl felt weaker and weaker. There is a touching plea for rescue.

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19^th

I know not if it be morning or evening :

At my feet lies some strange contraption :

Can it fathom my heart ? Can it heal my suffering ?

I only know that I survive from Mum’s devotion.

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From the torture, the girl lost sense of time. At the hospital she was tied up to some apparatus with wires in it. There is a stark question that usually comes from adults : can the apparatus detect what her heart was going through. She only survived through her Mum’s constant devotion to her.

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20^th

To take any food or drink hardly can I afford :

Wherefrom cometh so much vomit, good Lord ?.....

From my frail body : some twenty times an hour :

When will it end : ah, how, for me, life be sour…..

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She had lost all interest in food and drinks. She was astounded by the amount of the vomit. It was totally a mystery that so much vomit could come out of her. She vomited about 20 times in a day. The stress tortured her. She found this life to be a sour one and hoped fervently for the cruelty to end.

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21st

I crumple up in bed : I see hazy sights around :

For others, joyous life everywhere doth abound.

Here, with misery my bleeding heart daily be torn :

Be this my destiny ?..... Be this for what I was born ?.....

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The girl curled up in bed. There were lights around, near her hospital bed. She reflected about how other children enjoyed a happy life. In her won case, it was misery after misery. She wondered why all this was destined for her.

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22nd

If this be a tale, in a new book let it be recount’d :

In a children’s book : a ghostly tale from a sleepy town.

At yon taunting “school” many were dement’d :

Hark ! Hell be rais’d, myriads do already frown !

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The girl expresses the wish that a book be written to recount her story, a story to appear in a children’s book. The story should be a ghostly one to haunt those that cared not. At the school, they had lost their minds. Suddenly, there is drama. Hell has broken loose upon the tormentors. Suddenly, thousands of people are barging in, wanting to know what had happened, and they condemn the barbarous acts.

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*****

23^rd

Enact’d on stage : into a martyr turn’d a fairy :

Unfolding drama, engrav’d in lasting poetry :

A slim body slamming against the lockers :

In anonymous schools, unmask’d bully-mongers……

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Here there is a break in the poem. The story will be enacted on stage : the story of a fairy who was turned into a martyr. The dram will be engraved in poetry. The scene flashes back to the others slamming her against the lockers. But, from the hell that has broken loose, those bully-mongers will be held to account.

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24^th

Drums, trumpets, violin, flute, hair-raising music :

All work’d into a blood-curling show yet unmatch’d :

Lo ! Bullying shalt fall to some curse malefic :

By posterity shalt fitting retribution be hatch’d.

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In the enactment, there will compelling, overpowering music. Trumpets, violin, flute (violins and flutes can be turned into instruments of utmost pathos). The rendition will haunt the viewers; it will be blood-curling. The bully-mongers are cursed. The future is addressed here : the future will bring retribution.

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25^th and last

Spilling all over, starting with the unsung hamlet,

The poignant story shalt engulf the entire land;

Some blockbuster production, from some masterly hand :

Backlash fashion’d in the secret forge of the poet !

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The story, when publicised, will be known all over the town, from the place that had remained unknown, unnoticed. The story will flood the whole country. A spectacular production will be made from the story by someone who masters such matters. The poet has sketched out a future production that will start the backlash.

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My note : the story happened in England in November 2018.

Internet links :

• https://www.devonlive.com/news/devon-news/six-year-old-girl-bullied-2170544
• https://www.theepochtimes.com/bright/this-is-what-bullying-does-distraught-uk-mom-posts-image-of-6-year-old-in-hospital-bed-2804343

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See analysis of the poem  :

https://mypoeticside.com/show-poem-200386 

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