My Most Embarrassing Moment
I scorn thee, Puberty! Damn thee as well,
Thou abominable herder of shame,
Will thou findeth glee by my told sarspell?
I beseech thee of ineffable name,
Rendereth thineself as quiet slain game,
For thine cruel ends be reached, let thine eyes droop,
Immortal Rite, meeteth Poetry Soup.
Forsaken specs findeth young Phillip (me),
He the first noble son born of Sir Mike,
That betrothed Diane, mother of he (me);
Neareth NASA lived they by Houston’s dike,
We plus two girl offsprings I still dislike;
Turneth back time to nineteen ninety five,
Thus now the setting as ocean, we dive.
I of ten years then plus three more years aged,
By mine mom’s woven hand rags yet adorned,
Draperies bindething spirits encaged,
Mine lot too ignorant still ‘be forlorned,
For two years would pass ‘fore Nike I yearned;
Looken now friends, at thine narrator’s dress,
Mine costumes for school were each mismatched mess.
And hath we not yet speaketh mine afro?
Then let us for humor’s saketh too laughs
For atop mine snow pale flesh did it grow!
It was beneath that nest mine brain did graphs
On one Tuesday morn; during sixth grade math,
Unbeknownst of a sneaking wretched pest:
That ineffably named prepubescent guest.
Still in present times remember I can’t,
What the hell kindled mine loins ablaze,
Yet fiery flames of embarrassment
Secretly smoldered through my brainy haze;
When mine teacher upon me called that I raise,
And thus stirred the scene I’ve oft reflected,
The moment I’ve chosen for my most embarrassing?
When in 6th grade math class I stood up…
…fully erected
Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2016
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