With a swoosh of my hand and some gliding of pen,
I sit in my class, full of chagrin.
What appeared on my page was awful, indeed!
'Twasn't even close to the gentleman's deed!
I was doodling, see, whilst listening attentively to my class history,
And attempting to draw a young man, thin and tall.
But there on the page, instead of the lad,
Were some squiggly lines, broken and sad.
So with a ponderous mutter and a stroke of my beard,
I suddenly realized the fact I had feared:
My drawing was lost, the poor thing deceased!
It's short-lived life had suddenly ceased.
So with a glance at my teacher and a deep-furrowed brow
I regretted my artwork being utterly foul,
But I looked down again and turned it around,
Suddenly realizing it was sort of profound!
If you turn it about and peer at it there,
You suddenly see it if I add a line here:
Before your own eyes, a hand claps another!
Perhaps, indeed, it's the boy and his lover!
With a clap of my palms, I glance up again,
To have unexpectedly fade my joy-ridden grin.
For my teacher has paused, his eyes at me glaring
Everyone else is frozen and staring.
I quietly chuckle, in my seat I do slump.
No sound can be heard, not even a bump.
Well, I regretfully say, harsh punishment I get,
But seeing my drawing, 'twas worth every bit!
Forever now clasped, a hand in a hand,
Is the boy and his lover, a wedding is planned!