Chemistry
He stands by the board
Small and fraile
For some strange reason
He keeps on through the viel
He mumbles his lectures
He stumbles upon remarks
Once you miss a moment
You might as well be in the dark
He stands by his board
Runs his hands through his hair
He finds himself clever
His cheesey jokes
They once would be halarious
But now they just stare
He speaks fairly quick
For a man of his age
But his words are so soft
You barely hear a phrase
He stands by his board
Strange markings all over
You look at it, stare
You just can't even bare
You scrape by with grades
He teaches a math
But this math is a science
Chemistry is his domain
Now, it is your pain
He stands by his board
Looks upon his class
Wonders if they listen
Their grades seem to reflect so
But he wonders if they listen
They laugh and giggle
He sits and looks around
Texting teenagers
Laughing girls
'Why do I do this to myself'
He would ponder
Soon he'll even forget that answer