Boys will be boys,
until they become bombs,
and the playground becomes a minefield,
where girls hop, skip and jump over their last day on Earth.
Some spots are safe,
but some are explosive,
some coercive,
some creative,
some populated by killers,
some populated by kindness.
Boys will be boys,
and some will stay boys.
Some will stay sane,
and some will be swallowed by madness.
Boys will be boys,
and some will survive.
Some will do time,
some will be fine.
Some will wear the cloak of the reaper,
and some will weep for what their friends become.
Boys will be boys,
and girls will be targets,
never sure of which boy remained a boy,
and which boy will become a butcher.
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