My Brother

March 13, 2009
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Aristotle-what a name
Like the philosopher's fame
A game, he plays, when life
Seems to bore him
He is the man, and
Boy does he know it.
And shows it as he walks
With his head held high
The girls turn as he passes
By, never does he cry
Or abide by the rules
School, what a joke
A hoax, of sorts
With his wise retorts
Any sport, his forte
This game he plays
When life seems to
Bore him, sore loser.
HA never the loser
Aristotle, what a kid
One of a kind.
Speaks his mind but,
Hurt, he does not
Would never touch a knife
Or gun or weapon
Just play his game,
Of, Life





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