Tommy

Written by: Susan Burd

Weird Tommy sits 
In back of me
And will not ever
Let me be.

He yanks my braids,
Peeks at my grades,
With cross-eyed stares­
Pulls out my chair.

And writes bad notes,
Then takes my coat-
Claims he is king.
Steals the best swing,

Then hides my lunch,
Gives me a punch,
Sticks out his tongue,
Calls me “cow dung.”

Right in the halls-
He throws spitballs
Into my hair-
Says he “Don’t care.”

Pokes me with twigs,
Can snort like pigs.
Pinches my arm,
Says I “need charm!”

He’s such a fink!
What do you think?
Wait, could it be
Tommy likes me?


By Susan Burd © 2011