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.