Nobel prize

This one’s a bout the Nobel prize, super realistic.

 

They say I’m a true pedagogical brainiac.

I’ve improved schooling, a betterment maniac.

 

Solved ADD, bullying, truancy and more.

But this latest one really tops my score:

 

Water gun fights in all the PE classes!

It will soon heal all those depressed masses.

Make good people of sexist, racist asses.

Get rid of all health-related impasses.

 

More water gun fights in all of our schools.

You just need a common set of rules.

The school gives out the venue and the tools

And the students shine, our smart little jewels.

 

This innovation brought me a prize.

The one envied by all the scientist guys.

The one that’s best under our blue skies.

It’s Mr. Nobel’s, such a nice surprise.

 

I put on my best evening dress.

This is the place to dress to impress.

I’m feeling out of this world, I confess.

That, and the stone on my shoulders, stress.

 

They say my name, I shamble to the stage.

My heartbeat is too high for doctors to gauge.

The one handing the medal is my favorite sage.

I take it and realize: I’m not on the same page.

 

The mouth on the medal is leaking gravy

Am I imagining, is my mind that wavy?

 

My hands now smell like thanks and turkey.

My idol’s eyes have a look a bit quirky.

He backs off with a movement slightly jerky

While on me spreads the feeling so murky.

 

I must vamos off the stage, time’s pressing.

The slightly gooey medal is a bit distressing.

But the fact I find the most depressing:

I spent the whole day dressing up for the dressing.

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