Poem – Professor

The man whose favor I must curry

Alight with all his righteous fury

Academic blind to his hate

Humbly thinking himself great

 

He adores the adoration

Of those, stired by his conflagration

Every one that thinks the same

Us that don’t must feign a tame-

Complacement attitude about

What he says that we do doubt

Pretend to see a wisdom fair

When there is in fact nothing there

 

But the teacher’s job is to oppress

To slander lie and crush unless

The rebel totes the party line

The drivel they can get behind

 

Freedom means naught to a dean

They’ll ensure nothing else is seen

They claim they wish to spare offense

They strangle speech this their defense

 

While once they rose they now slip down

And soon we’ll steal their gilded crown

This wicked trash will not retire

It will be cast into the fire

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