Fingerprints

My knuckles leave fingerprints
On the wall,
and down the hall,
On that arrogant jackass
I chased through the mall.
It's not my fault. After all,
I couldn't convince
You not to pass.
(Okay, that's bullshit,
But that guy was asking for it.)

You confirmed the truth of my fears:
You lied to me, but it's not about you.
I have four-and-twelve years,
But I still hate to lose.