This is not fair. It is not right.
It keeps me up all through the night.
I’m cursed with speaking words in rhyme.
Can’t help it! Do it all the time!
At my age, (that is 41),
This is not good. It is not fun.
I cannot stop. Can’t change my tune.
Do this each day, July to June.
I don’t know why I speak in verse,
Why am I blessed with this strange curse?
The doctors say that this obsession
Likely comes with my profession.
Surrounded by these kids each day,
I breathe and eat in this wordplay.
I think it’s ‘cause my generation’s
Suffered mass Seussification.
Either way it’s plain to see
That I need a Seuss-ectomy.
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