I wrote this poem orally while driving behind a school bus for a long time. It was too long to be honest coming from Concord to Keene one day.

Name This Game

 

Simon says get off my ass

You follow much too close

But if that bus were not so slow

I'd not drive comatose

I knew I had a destination

Now forgotten where I'm going

'Cause there's a yellow behemoth

Driving like he's mowing

Unseen fields in our path

For a never ending mile

I watch a kid pick his nose

I simply have to smile

Why are they looking at me

Like I'm the picture here?

They're the ones on an Edu-tour

That's taking them nowhere

You can study all you want

And never catch your dream

There's no diploma in this race

When the work is so extreme

Here is my report card

For the duck, duck and goose

For the hider and the seeker

Players of hangman's noose

Never forget to hula-hoop

Have a tea party with a friend

Let the witless win at checkers

It's more fun if you pretend

'Cause you'll be a scientist

A healer or a thief

You'll flip-flop in religion

And dispute your own belief

It's about time this guy

Does his tipping turn

Patience is a virtue

It matters what you learn.

 

     Ciera S. Louise  5/10/05