From The Stash Archives, Circa 1990

I Don’t Like You Anymore

I don’t like you anymore.
You knocked me down…
I hit the floor.

You punched me hard… right in the face
And tripped me
When we ran the race.

You said I had an awful smell
And then you broke
My bicycle bell.

You were a mistake by your mother.
Yours truly,
Your little brother.

End

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