Unhinged not quite confused a frail verdict I surmised
Was it a Sisyphean turmoil? Or way off wise?
On a treadmill, I’m, catechizing myself
Being pedagogue, a Goodwill on pelf
Empty-head, imbecile and topsy-turvy
I stumble across, each day, every day, a Paramount misery
Nit pupil solely I blame, there be some confrère
Being pedagogue, I know, karma is unfair
Idyllic be no mankind, and nor I’d be,
A man so flawless is a man without glee
Solecism I admire, solecism edify, but not for me
Being pedagogue, I work for foreman, and only sublimity he plea
Toil my arse, I do, seven days a week
But minimum affluence they confer, my toil a squeak
Yet stature I hold, among all, the delight behold
Being pedagogue, I’m the unrefined gold
Have a story to tell?
Send your articles, poems, short stories and opinions to
mycity@myrepublica.com, gennext@myrepublica.com or post it on our facebook page at fb.com/mycityrepublica, fb.com/gennextnepal
