Keckley

No need for sympathy, I play my general relativity symphony/

while I give you acidity visually, timothy.

Yet I think back to my sesame street days, readily in my seat to praise their cliches/

still I learned only how gaze at my essays delays.

Teaching is fun for the kids they'd be screeching/

while they're only actually peeping, cheating and leeching from the factually.

Arguments into complements when the papulace documents told them/

about the marvelous, harmless darkness from the starless artist.

Starving and devolving would be their preserving/

unless they started arming, marching and harming the undeserving observing.

Nevertheless they made less fresh diatoms/

only making more of vietnam's bombs.

Cool kids were played as the schools fools/

still never broke their preschools booze rules.

Unwilling to be killing they promised without spilling/

only choking when caught joking about tonight's strangulation motivation.