Dooummed

When I was in school I often felt like a fool,

for Mondays would start … with a spelling test!

The letters I sought, but all was for naught.

Ultimately … I would not do my best.

The teachers would say; Your grades are OK,

except when you try to spelling words.

Your stories are funny, but you won’t make much money,

if you can’t tell a noun from a verb.

Try as I might, it was a terrible plight

to start each week with a D.

And often I sighed, for the harder I tried,

Out of five, I’d only get three.

One particular shrew enjoyed watching me stew,

as I struggled to perceive each vowel.

You’ll go to your doom mopping men’s rooms,

so you might as well throw-in-the-towel.

When I finally got out, I remembered this lout,

determined to be a success.

I spent much of my time, making up rhymes.

At last, I was making progress.

Years later …

I opened the doors to my 5th avenue store.

Was it Karma? I had to look twice,

when my teacher walked in and I said with a grin;

We only sell fine moychindice!