I do not like you, you will see.
I do not like you, Grammer Class!!
You do not like me, Titan? that evil class asks.
I do not like you, Grammer Class!!
A Poem:
Of Grammer, I will say:
I did not like that class today!
I fretted my brain over useless rules
Around my desk were scattered pools -
Of tears, my friends; my eyes were jets
Of scalding water - and Hope had fled
That soon this class would be abed.
Twas near past ten at night
- so late -
And every student forced to wait.
The clock was froze,
The prof was loud,
I banged my hand upon my brow!
Next to me, I heard a cough
I turned my weary eyes aloft
A 'draggled* Student glanced at me
His eyes were red and fierce and dree!
I bit my lip and gave a groan -
He was txting on his phone!
Such pain and loss affected me
As I recalled past history
Of evil Students lacking time
To listen as professors primed
Their classes for the world of Real
(Here I'd thought that some would fail
To keep a job in such a Place-)
But I am drifting far apace.
In my class the speech went on-
Nouns and verbs and pros and cons -
Of English as compared to those
Other, correctly structured foes:
Latin, French; Dutch and Greek.
My English skills seemed rather meek
As nouns were split in sixths and eighths:
Personal/Useless/Dumb/and Waifs.
Tell me, reader, do you care
To read the phrases written there?
"Phrases" are those words above,
Of which, methinks, I have no love.
A few are fake (of this I see)
But I doubt you wished for Clarity.
Grammer, a class so rightly blamed,
Is only for the learned and famed.
Grammer, dear Grammer, to thee I say:
Thy rules, thy forms, thy speech, thy ways -
Never, dear Grammer, to thee I'll stray.
* a form of bedraggled: dirty and/or disheveled.
Tomorrow: A little writing about Homework.
