He sits in his chair and can't help but stare
At an enormous screen full of ebony hair,
With glasses perched at the end of her nose,
With elegance rivaling that of a rose.
Her smile tends to sends sparks through his core,
Such effort to control himself- what a chore!
As he sits in frustration, being drove crazy,
All whilst his commander continually proves lazy.
Racking his brain for a solution to fix,
These pestering feelings that he finds in his midst
He cannot see it, this answer he requires,
So instead there he'll sit until he perspires.
Glass is cracking, hindering his vision,
Now would be optimal for an experiment in fission,
To part with these thoughts that only give worry,
Drown them all out with a huge plate of curry!
Oh it's no use, he hates to admit,
That even his curry and his great wit,
Could not stand up to her in a moment or hour,
It is clear in this relationship who has the power.
K-ku, ku, ku!