Next time I see him-
fat chance he'll breathe again.
One too many times
he's crossed the line
with that goddamned grin
plastered on his face.
Whenever a comment I made,
a snide remark, an insult perhaps
always from his skull-cave came.
Enough is enough! I've had it up to here.
My true motive now in the clear,
his best bet is to move-stay away.
For the time we meet again--
that'll be his last day.