A band room, filthy with class,
And a boy, filled with sass,
My grades were good,
All in the hood,
Destroying my final pass.
A master in bed, a king of tennis,
All the women call him a menace,
For he smokes some tar,
And preys at a bar,
With a name as great as Dennis.
Swirling colors of white and green,
Beautiful handcrafted and clever teens,
Filled with suckers,
As well as some truckers,
Eating their little brown beans.
By Shivang Shelat