I’m sorry to be the one to give you the bad news, ma’am, but you’ve got a baby thug on your hands.  


Baby Thug

He was born a bully, a mean infant

Pushing his way out of the womb

He came out crying about the accommodations

  And then demanding milk from his exhausted mother

Age did not improve his temperament

Rather it gave him time to stew in his own evil juices

and his bad nature turned into something worse

He started stealing snuggles and kisses, breaking into hearts, and revving up the engine of time  

Small crimes at first that were sure to lead to his makers’ undoing 

Sure enough, time would prove the diagnosis right

He was a baby thug 

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