When you asked me if I loved you
and I said that I hated you,
I meant in the third-grade
throw-sand-in-your-juice
kind of way.
Because I’m about as fit as a third-grader
to be with you.
And about as emotionally mature.
So let’s go behind the portables and make-out,
until the recess bell rings
And we have to get back to molding
the leaders of tomorrow.