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.