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To Repeat a Class
They made him repeat a class,
Promising him that he would pass,
This backing up with eyeglass,
Urging him to read even on grass;
To plan always for The Big
And be willing to for it dig:
For the More-Original-than-A-Wig
And the Fruit-Promising Fig.
Then, off he just slunk
From his long-lazing bunk
Wearing the weirdest punk,
In his arms some readable junk;
Not much of the money in him sunk,
Soon again to exams flunk …
Workload had seemed Gargantuan
And he’d never been Academic Centurion;
Trust in him a Romance with Farce,
Sure again to repeat that class.
Copyright ©
Chinedum Ekwobi
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