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.