SCHOOL DAYS
To put it quite simply I hated school.
The things that for some inspire nostalgia
To me are akin to a peculiar neuralgia.
In grade school I attended two and
Sometimes three schools per year
School spirit so grand
Inspiring fear
Loyalty I couldn't give
No matter how long I should live.
Each school its own penmanship
Allowing no other
Caused me page after page to rip
And then not to bother.
I saw the hypocrisy
And class distinctions,
Mindless beaurocracy
Varied intentions.
My mind, my own,
Not their ground to be sown,
No one's bush to be pruned
No one's harp to be tuned.
Friends I made few,
Those I did proved true.
I read, "Out damned spot,
Out I say", while others read,
"See Spot run. Run, Spot, run."
Then later Beowulf behind
The Fifth grade reader hid,
A way around boredom to find,
My reading long before school begun
Needed something to feed a hungry mind.
Little in my classes could make that bid.
© Albert K. Jungers, April 11, 2008, All rights Reserved
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