SCHOOL BOY

It is vile to pluck me out;

Cushioned from all in the simple verandah;

To the crafty friends, a bogy;

And the blood-curdling teacher, a bully.

I am not so born to be schooled;

In the incipient years of my sole birth.

Let my legs go untied;

Upon the untapped turfs.

I am not so born to be blemished;

By the crass and crummy classrooms.

Still agape with scenes around;

After five years of briskly deals.

Am I taxed for my vibrant pulse?

With the punitive baggage on my shoulder bones.

I ever hate the hell it is;

To be coaxed into troubling chores.

I shall be airy with the clucking chicks

But not with the teasing brainy imps.