Personal Enemy Poem by Dutmachine De Mabior

All through in the compound of thirsty children
The arms do not touch the armpits
So close but they can't meet
How does he manage
Especially when the others are being chased like wild animals to save time?
But for him anything is done anywhere
He pretends to know not
But he is too old to identify the mistakes
When it's time to know what was done in three months
He is the last to know what he did
Exactly participants of skirt wearers don't appear in top positions
Like the normal rest who are humble and know what to do when
All in all it's just an impeccable wastage
What does he take home
No one is sure but the least expected
Nevertheless he can afford to form an acute angle
They call it the academic angle but to be precise does it fit him?
After wasting my effort on the opposite sex
We shall never be friends unless he changes his ways