Little Brother

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The see-saws frosty as a Monday morning

for he

who sits without the small shade of a

big brother,

the "I'll hang with you later"


that promised Mum he'd look out

for me,

proclaiming, "I'd never leave him for my friends"


even when he hears the call, it's a no

my homie,

the "my little brother's more important"


but when he's picked up with sunstroke and blisters

by Mum,

the "you've been manipulated"


It doesn't matter that a

beating will be



an allowance

will be revoked,

'cause, if only they knew

what he could do,

not to the world

but himself

What could he do?

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