A poem about my chemistry teacher:
I lecture children to their grave
Cut their throats if they don’t behave
With sticky blood my palms I lave
You dare to argue? How so brave!
All my minions – I make deprave
Lend me your ears : I’ll rave and rave
Not a soul I’ve ever forgave
Onto hell my way I shall pave
I’m neither a knight nor a knave
Just an old hag condemned, enslaved.
Once, I murdered a boy named Dave
He told me I needed to shave.
I hung him and made him my slave
And made him swear not to misbehave.
Gasp! I actually made sense 