Call me a swot,
I'd rather be one than not,
See if i care,
When we are older i'll live with money left with money left to spare,
For things that I want not just need,
Just because i studied hard for my GCSE's
Call me an idiot,
I'm smarter than you,
When I was your brain age I could times 2 by 2,
I'm nt trying to be a smartypants I like to mess around,
Every now and then bet a few pound,
On things like how long till she flicks her hair,
Or when do you think sir will fall over that chair,
I'm no monster or insane,
To be honest your'e the one who is the pain.
Call me a loser,
All I said was the answer is 54,
You have done that loads of times before,
I don't get,
Why you lie,
Just to get your own way,
At the end of the day,
Call me what you want anytime,
But at the end of the ryhme,
Your'e the one with the big gob,
And i'll be the one with the good job...
© Copyright 2016 SecretlyBruceNorris. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
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