Plight of The Overplaced Child

Iím a bright November boy,

School for me is not a joy!

How I dread to hear the bell,

How I pray for old Gesell.

Dr. Ilg, please rescue me

From this shame and misery.


Teacher thinks Iím rather slow.

I just need more time to grow!

Next to me sits prissy Pearl,

Teacherís "good" December girl.

Pearl just loves her A, B, Císó

Wants to learn to make her threes.

I prefer the trucks and wateró

Teacher doesnít think I oughter.


Johnnyís Marchóhe really shines,

Colors well within the lines.

April Smith can write her name

In big round letters, all the same.

Teacher says that I donít tryó

All I do is blink one eye,

She thinks that I am not too bright,

I still mix my left and right!


Teach says I should listen more

And spend less time down on the floor.

I can sing and march and play,

I can paintóbut not her way!

I made a personóred and blue

With lots of hair and buttons too.

It was goodóbut what the heck!

All she said was, "Whereís the neck?"


Teacherís getting rather riled,

Thinks I am a stubborn child.

Hopes that I donít have a brotheró

Says she couldnít stand another.

Warns if I donít pay attention

She is thinking of retention.

That threat of hers it thrills me so,

Then I would have more time to grow.


Teacheróyoung as I may beó

I do know biology.

Birds and bees arenít celibate,

And as long as people mate

There will be November boys

Who look forward to schoolís joys.

Teacher, hurry to Geselló

Donít make all their lives a hell!


By: Kay M. Innes

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