I call it...
O! Professor, why must you speak?
Right out of my ears your words do leak.
A subject like this - more interesting than rocks
Has been transformed into a chore - folding the socks.
Woe is me! for your lectures, they bore
I fear I shall keel over if I should listen to one more.
Alas, I have 3 yet to go
Why must this class be my treacherous foe!?
El Matador - that's what my professor be
He kills sociology faster than can I sing off key.
Round and round in circles he speaks
Forever moving those old, wrinkled cheeks.
I suppose now is the time to leave
For masses of homework I must now heave.
'Tis been a pleasure speaking with thee
But I have 3 weeks yet til I be free.
So I shall end this complaint for my class
At least with an A I shall pass.
O'er the river and through the woods I go
Hopefully ne'er to have this professor no mo'
THE END
I really hope I never have this professor again. I've fallen to doing crossword puzzles and word searches in his lectures.
