He used to call me names
Throw paper balls at me
Would drop a toad on my desk
And on some days even three
I would help him in his homework
He never would thank me back
Only thing I got in return
Were the silly jokes that he’d crack
He used to dress so shabbily
To school, he was always late
I even told my mother once
“That’s the boy I hate”
…
That’s how our story went
Until I broke my foot one day
It was somewhere in February
I had to stay in bed till May
He would come and visit me
Dressed appropriate and fine
And joke that he was first to school
While others reached by nine
He would bring all the notes from school
And occasionally flowers and chocolates
My mother even asked me once
“Isn’t that the boy you hate?”
That’s how our story went
He soon became my mate
It’s hard to believe but
He’s the boy I used to hate
…
18 years and 2 kids later
He is still the same guy to me
Still cracking those silly jokes
But he better not drop any toad on me
Sometimes I get a dreadful thought
How different our story would be
If I hadn’t hurt my foot that day
That day in February