He leaves a trail of pickles and moss
And stones and sticks and taco sauce
A slapdash chain of dregs and dross
Cruel teachers and angry aunts
Sling a thousand bitter taunts
For Jay’s apparent nonchalance
Inside this squall of anarchy
Lurks a soul enchanted and free
Discard your spite and you could see
by Richard W. Bray
Laughter hope sock in the eye's Blog 