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He swears on his mother's life he wasn't there.
And if he was there
he swears on his mother's life it wasn't him.
And if it was him
After the fiftieth insult -
the school bag down the toilet, the stifled
giggle-whisper that hung like a smear on the air -
she suddenly saw
I spied a small lonely boy.I was his beautiful red balloon,from morning through to noon,
What do we do with a difference?Do we stand and discuss its oddityor do we ignore it?
Do we shut our eyes to itor poke it with a stick?Do we clobber it to death?