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The Smart Boy
A lot of people think that you,
You are smart, the smartest,
And we all feel a little incompetent,
When compared to you and your standards.
I’ve known you, a long, long while,
And my brain is just starting to understand,
How yours works everyday, night, and has
Your whole life.
But you still don’t understand
How my mind works,
Has worked, will always work.
Of course, you believe you’ve gotten me
All figured out, my personal
Equation written down in some secret
Notebook, hidden between your mattress
Like some stereotypical teenage girl.
Because you have this irrational fear,
That you don’t know everything already.
You need to have some quantifiable proof,
Even though you keep it solely for your own
That you know the inner workings of everything,
Of everyone, and of me.
You don’t see the way you are,
Toward the rest of us, and if you do,
You don’t care how cold, soulless, and detached
You think you know me, and you think you know
Too bad you loved me so much, little smart boy,
I saw right through you.