I remember sitting in front of Mr. Ramos
Observing the clear gestures
Taking note of the structures
Following the illustration of the of the venn
Provided with all the possibility
No struggle with accessibility
Yet distinction failed
Then from the west
Came a mighty wind
Whirling huskily like a storm
Tossing and drowning things
Regarding no mighty king
Curtailing all subjects
And smiling at the loss
The head
Lost in the pathway of
Discovering a remedy
Got none ready
Left with no choice
Than to opt for the virtual
The voiceless
Despite the inner anxiety
Left with the choice of nothing
Than to comply
Then I see the plight of the farm girl
Educated with farming
Taking refuge in the farm
From dawn to dusk
No medium for accessibility
Shutting the avenue for acquisition
When will the crops yield
To afford a medium?
I hear a wail from a far island
Higher up on a hill
Anticipating for signal
After many an anxious hour
Got the alert at the eleventh hour
Missed the criteria of proficiency
No room for justification
I figure out the predicament of the regular school boy
Always scolded by Mama
Emptying all pockets
Having a blurred vision
Developing a migraine
The aftermath of long exposure
Solely to accomplish the mission
The hour arrives soon
The hour set and saved for accountability
For judging proficiency
Creating enmity between justice and mercy
What then would be the fate of the farm girl?
How many hills would be climbed for a signal?
How would the regular school boy cope with his predicaments?
Sadly, no ear to pay heed
The anxiety of the voiceless still unheard
And the desire to accomplish the mission
Breeding into a heap of mess.
Super cool
Thank you