And they open their course books to a lesson in grammar,
But it’s a self-love sermon, their minds’ in clamour.
And first the calm comma, languid and paused,
But do we unwind and muse on our flaws?
And now the fatal fullstop, threatens us with the snap,
But blades aren’t for skin, what is, is a pat.
And the what, why, how, all march in with sneers,
But in this race you shall outstrip, have belief and no fears.
And the slender exclamation leaps and whirls in glee,
But we too have a heart, set those caged emotions free.
And the airy quotations house a thousand words,
But why do we gag to leave our voices unheard?
And the class soon ended, the bell rung aloud
But the Queen’s English blessed them with gifts unavowed.
Yours poetically, The Literary Artisan 💖
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