planting and then digging up the past
like grasping hands of shattered glass
scattered patterns come back fast
an attachment to the splattered mass

blackened fragments of first and last
spattered paths that lead right back
stabbing agony that will never pass
shackled to the everlasting black

after years of fending Mathematics,
hiding disastrous test papers as guerrilla tactics,  

lolling in the shame of discovery,  
followed by parents' sherlockian commentary,
how they came upon the dreaded documents, accidentally,  

I thank the gods who gave writers nibs, quills, ink,  
how their tales became shields,infused life in print,

these angelic saviours from Darth Vader menace,
famed rescuers from teacher disguised fiends,
dear, beloved school education, I forgive you all your sins...