O Mentor! My Mentor! You thought the job was done.
You tried to go and not look back. Retirement you’d won.
It seemed so clear. The time was here, when you could start cavorting,
Away from school bells’ steady peal, and students’ brain-dead staring.
But O! heart! Heart! Heart!
O these kids who won’t drop dead.
An ancient student wants advice
On drivel she wants read.
O Mentor! My Mentor! We’ve crawled out of our wells.
We’re here! Our latest work we’ve brung, so bad it gives you chills.
Though we’re so old we wear false teeth, to you we come a-crowding
And seeking praise, each stupid ass, to you her face is turning.
Now Mentor! (Not Sister)
Your eyes may fill with dread.
Another student brings you dreck
Demanding it be read.
My Mentor, she will answer. She is my teacher still.
She will my ego never harm, though really, I lack skill.
And every day, I’ll come around, to show her what I’ve done,
Though when I read the lady’s work it’s clear I am outdone.
Fall on all fours, and say, Hell’s Bells!
I have such news to spread.
My mentor who is O! so wise,
Leaves not my work unread.