I asked the home room teacher for a pass

To get out of my phys-ed class

With hopes of meeting my Yorkshire lass

Who shared my musical taste for bluegrass


I made my way via an underpass

To avoid a section of landmass

Which caused someone to yell, “Hey jackals,

Didn’t you see the sign, Do Not Trespass?”


He was sporting  a monocle,  one eyeglass

That made me feel a bit subclass

With his morass of negativity

All because I had walked on some grass.


Just because he sported plenty of brass

Wasn’t cause for continuing to harass

Me with his crass misrepresentation of facts

Would my afternoon be spoiled by some crabgrass?


The only way out of this ticklish impasse

A thought came to mind, alas!

I will offer a glass of sassafras

And then ask him to forgive my trespass.

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