SCHOOL: THE RIDDLE (With apologies to Gigi D'Agostino)
©2012 by Vyrazhi
I've got two weak arms. With them, something is wrong.
Hard to carry on, and try to use my wit and charms,
In school I wasn't all that brave.
Teachers say:
"Now, the tree by the river's full of phloem in the ground,"
And their confusing statements whirl around and around.
If my mind is a beacon, then its flickering light
Dims with every false answer: there's a wrong and a right.
If the tree by the river's full of phloem in the ground,
How am I to remember when the test comes around?
If my mind is a beacon, then I fear for its light,
Because every wrong answer makes it vanish from sight,
Yeshcho, yeshcho, ya starayus'…(*Again, again, I try…)
"Now, the tree by the river's full of phloem in the ground,"
And their confusing statements whirl around and around.
If my mind is a beacon, then its flickering light
Dims with every false answer: there's a wrong and a right.
If the tree by the river's full of phloem in the ground,
How am I to remember when the test comes around?
If my mind is a beacon, then I fear for its light,
Because every wrong answer makes it vanish from sight,
Yeshcho, yeshcho, ya starayus'…
I had plans for me: DON'T be a teacher, and instead, do theater!
I said with all sincerity: I'll do anything but that.
I yeshcho ya starayus'…
It's not me, you see. Teaching's a waste of time, 'cause kids wash off the grime
Of English, Math and History, seasons of homework that grow old.
Teachers fall:
"Now, the tree by the river's full of phloem in the ground,"
And their confusing statements whirl around and around.
If my mind is a beacon, then its flickering light
Dims with every false answer: there's a wrong and a right.
Yeshcho, yeshcho, ya starayus'…
I've no time to kill. Studying and chores trump all plans of yours.
Blackbirds sing on Bluebird Hill, but I don't hear the calling of the wild.
High-school child…