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Mar 2017
He’s the meanest kid on the block
His head is made of solid rock
He is no good at all
His morals are too small
And I want to give him a good hard sock.

Can’t trust him past where you can throw him
Your mind hurts just because you know him.
There’s not much he’s good for
A class-A notorious bore.
A waste of the cost it took to grow him.

I’d tell you that he is homely
But that would not be only
The one thing that makes him bad.
He seldom keeps his word
And everything you have heard
About him should make you sad.

He’s a gold-plated, two-****** tinhorn
He knows how to steal with both hands.
He’s never acted right
Even when asleep at night;
He’s the kind of creep nobody understands.

His pants very rightly should be on fire
Because he is just that kind of a liar.
He really loves to boast.
It’s the thing he loves the most.
Bragging is the object of his desire.

Listening to him causes dread
Like a nail going through my head
Because I know he doesn’t care about us.
We’re just creatures he will use
Then leave us without our shoes
Mistaking brains for being devious.
Brent Kincaid
Written by
Brent Kincaid  Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawaii
(Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawaii)   
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