A sullen student joined the long, hard trip,
he brought naught, but on his shoulder a chip.
Always there and yet to many unseen
‘cept when temper would flare in the young teen.
Then his ears turned pink with fists at his side
and very young children would run and hide.
He would shout so loud and with bitter words
that old dust would stir with many small birds.
He’d go to bed each night in a fury
but wake with eyes never red or bleary,
for in the morn he seemed quiet enough,
only at night did his temper turn rough.
By day he looked only lazy and sad,
you’d never think he had gotten so mad.
So we feared his vengeance only at night
and used his great strength to help when in light;
hoping to tire him out very much
so he’d go to bed without a small touch
of spirits that always brought out the beast.
But this did not seem to work in the least.