Over a long and cryptic lecture of forgotten lore -
While I snorted, nearly snoring, suddenly there came a warning
As the teacher started roaring, roaring at my obvious bore
" ‘Tis some slacker," she muttered, "snoring at my ‘cryptic roar’ -
Sleep and your skills will be poor."
Ah, all my classmates remember how deep was my slumber
And one of the opposite gender threw a book upon the floor
Quickly I raised my head – my thoughts were filled with dread
From the echo in my head – dead would be the whore -
For the horrid and heinous crime committed by the whore -
She will pay forever more.
And the glowing, glaring stare emitted from below her hair
Chilled me- chilled me with eerie horrors never felt before
So that now, she had my attention, and I prepared for detention
" ‘Tis only to fuel my desire to return to the saintly days of yore; -
A detention fueling my desire to return to the saintly days of yore; -
You’ll sit there, and nothing more."
