By now we’ve all viewed Karen Klein,
The aging, school-bus monitor
Tormented by a group malign
Of seventh-graders to abhor,
Recalling while she’s teary-eyed
Her eldest son’s a suicide.
We’ve all known urchins such as these
For whom their standing’s relative.
They’ll chop off others at the knees
To deem themselves superlative.
Unhappily, some don’t outgrow
A need to bring their equals low.
Thenceforth do adult bullies bloom,
Increasingly in daily life.
My question’s what might spell their doom
Without promoting added strife.
My answer’s what they can’t dismiss:
Your character is cowardice.
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