4 окт. 2019 г., 17:47

Clash of Wills 

  Поэзия » Юмористическая, Гражданская
1217 0 0

To get a university degree is hard enough

No doubt it could be often hellish-tough.

While most after the first would close the door

I am an idiot who took not one or two but… four.

 

To make matters worse to comprehend,

I fell a victim to that so modern trend

And made my mind that out of 4 degrees

One was to be studied overseas...

 

The Rubicon was then crossed by chance

When Fate began to dance her weird dance

An online form, a joke, the button ‘send’.

And after that my fate could not be bent.

 

I found a place in the Wild West of the UK

A dead-end station of London far away

But didn’t know just yet what I had done

For I was to learn that in two years’ time.

 

With lessons began the clash of wills

I was Eastern-European but had skills.

And what I saw was not what they saw fit

So they tried to simply make me quit.

 

I was failed, downgraded for no good reason

And that went on for season after season.

‘You have good work’ they told me when I asked

When grading came – that I had failed the task.

 

I never gave up – I am the stubborn sort

And not the person to give up the fort.

Grades are nothing more than just a snap

Of student’s and teacher’s brain mishap.

 

The time came to go West and graduate

and see a comedy produced by fate.

I Went to the English Channel and beyond

To graduate (at last!). And even toga donned.

 

The English are unique, no two minds on that

But who would think that I could get a hat,

the toga and all the rest of graduation gear

but no proof I’ve passed these two years.

 

I got a ‘nothing box’ – an empty tube instead

While all sort of things went round my head.

A mistake, a mishap, what that could be?

And why (of all people?) this happens to me?!

 

The English had their own strange ways

Where logic runs and common sense fades.

Since their system would make any logic fail

A graduate certificate to be sent by … mail.

 

So I went on to look around in that far away land

But instead of sights, only contempt was found.

I sort of speak the language, yet feel I'm odd one out

I do not seek acceptance – to be stared at I'm bound.

 

In the land of the Angles there is only one way

I met some nice people (I should add)

Alas, for the mass you will always be bad

Lesser, dumber – Übermensch so to say.

 

I may not have blue eyes and blond hair

But I think I deserved a treatment fair.

I doubt I did get it throughout the two years

But I do not regret it since I got rid of my fears.

 

It was a clash of traditions and wills

Which made me learn some new skills.

I learned a truth some know from birth

That origins sometimes determine worth.

 

You'll be put to the test in all of days

Since impure blood runs in your veins

Why? Since you failed to be born

In the land where Her Majesty reigns.

© Бистра Стоименова Все права защищены

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