In grades one through four he didn’t have a clue.

By the grace of God he barely made it through.

And then his family moved from city to burb

Where his fifth grade teacher sought to curb

The new phenomenon of social promotion

By calling resolutely for a full grade demotion.

The hapless boy’s father had apoplexy

At the thought of the boy’s reverse destiny

And begged and pleaded with the cross-armed matron

To give the kid a chance and escape the clutches of Satan

In what would surely be the hell of a repeated grade.

So the teacher would yield only if progress were made.

She insisted that dad take heart and do his parental part

For the kid to have a brand spanking new academic start.

Unbeknownst to the kid, they made a devilish pact

To keep the errant child fastened to the right track

And so, as a matter now of history, they gave that

Boy a table and chair where he sat and studied and sat

Until with distinction he earned his doctorate,

And by then he knew he owed it all to Mrs. Allen

Who gave him hell but paved the way to academic heaven.