Go home, small child

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6 year olds everywhere! Go home, small child.
Your immature preaching shall not plague me no more,
Nor shall your high-pitched voices terrorise my eardrums;
Or your vanilla ice creams collapse on my skinny jeans.


When you will go home, small child,
Lie in your bed with stains all over your shirt.
And cry.
Take it from us teenagers, learn kid learn


7 year olds now, God-damn. Go home, small children.
You are no better than the rest.
Power Rangers are not real my friend,'
Go tell yer mum.


Infants? No siree. Go home!
If I hear you ring that bus bell again I will throttle you.
Oh how I will love to hear your fragile bones snap,
And your voice screech


Toddlers, from hell, go home.
Why didn't you just stay as babies?
Oh my small trip hazard companions;
Flee. You know why.


That's it. I'm putting Slipknot on my mp3,
To drown your murderous babble!
If it weren't for the staring old people
I would have volume on full.


10, 11, cocky tits. Go home, pre-pubescent child
You're not old enough to understand!
Doctor Who, Ben 10. Whatever you watch;
You make me wish my mp3 never ran out.


Oh and by the way, thank you for the sneeze on my neck.
I really appreciate it.
If I get whatever keeps your nose running...
You'll get a present which will stop it running or breathing.


Dear my younger brother and sisters, go home.
7 'o clock is bedtime for you,
7 'o clock is teatime for me.
Spot the difference.

Author's note[edit]

I dedicate this piece of literature to kids who feast on happy meals in McDonald's.

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