Little Pest

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I’m hopeless
Completely helpless,
Driven mad by thought and sound
Everything, from the slight tinker an ice cube makes
To the rasp of metal on wood
Goes straight into my head,
Like a hammer tap, tap, tapping away
Or a bee buzzing in my ear
I slap, but there’s nothing there,
And I’m left with a welt and a frown
That’s just the beginning though,
It gets much worse.
Rational thought flies out the window,
Accompanied by smiles and sanity
Instead, I’m left with dispair
It has a name too,
A very common one at that:
Little brother
Or, as I like to call him,
Little pest.





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