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Being pedagogue

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
By Arjeeb Cartman

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


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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


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