If I wrote a story

Of things great and glory

That grew like the sun’s rise

And glittered in his eyes.

If I could, then I would

And if I would, then should

I be allowed to stay

And spend another day

Learning my chosen art.

Unfinished I’ll depart,

For money bars my way,

To labor in life’s fray.

And all because no book

To sell I’ve no schoolwork.