I just want to question him, the thug, as to why he made fun of my boy.
Who happens to look so god damn cute in the hat I made for him. From yarn I spun for him.
Who now won't wear the hat I made for him, from yarn I spun for him, because some bully made fun of him.
I just want to question the twerp. And maybe make him a little frightened, just enough so he pees his pants and has to walk around school all day looking like he did.
But then again my therapist moved to upstate N.Y. halfway through our work together. I have a lot of unfinished business.
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