Ihiri

We think the same, we write the same We sometimes even look the same And I am you, and you are me Whomever else could I want to be? You yell at me, or call me names You beat me at our silly games You say you know more than the "half of it" But how much do you really get? Every morning, when I rise I look in the mirror, and I see your eyes It's like you're watching me, a taunting ghost Are you really the one I like the most? Others say that you're real cool But when alone, you're not to fool Mean, sarcastic, hurtful to a point But who am I to judge this joint? I call it mine, you deny that right I try to explain, but we just f

1. Blaming Ammunition "Don't touch me! I didn't do anything!" "That's exactly the point!" "You didn't tell me…! Stop!" It was another stupid fight. Price and his dad were always having them, and they were always about stupid things. Mr. Price was very protective of his only son, but had that brutal upbringing himself that caused him to be harsh with his son. Price had had it tough with his dad, since his mom had left them soon after he was born. "You're stupid!" he yelled, taking a spatula to his son's back, "Worthless! Why I keep you around is beyond me!" Price took the beating as he always did; this one was nothing special. He was sur