Metalsticks with rubber tips
Neighborhood of class
Tickled the Ivory keys
Lessons of chess
I could never grasp
Above my class
Looks talent
Intelligence and wit
All rolled into one
I supose I was a novelty
When it came to her having fun
Below her class
Hard work got her business suit on
New car new House on a hill
Selling items for the ill
Creativity dies
Lost to free enterprise
In her class
As for myself
I was bitter
I thought with my heart
Instead of my brain
Should of stayed
In my class
Now I stay in my class
And I hold it dear
Adulation of words
Writing music and songs
That none will hear
Cryptic, eliptic, concise
Water the late bloomer
For I fear it is dead
Feed the black Rose
In the back of my head.
For: Mrs. B.
-end-
Moses Lee