by Anton Wills-Eve

<a href=””>Fool Me Once</a>


An Inverse Cure

A student, in his early days,
Could not resist the tempting ways
That ladies of the night used daily,
Together with parties, drink and gaily
Lit bars which led in turn to sin,
Committed in low lit rooms within
The poorest quarter of the town.
There his passion rose as he laid down.
To satisfy his carnal needs
He indulged in the most immoral deeds.

But soon his tutors realised his work
Was declining, so gave him quite a jerk.
To make this sinner mend his ways
They changed his studies, so they might praise
His academic texts and talks,
They even bade him take long walks,
And made him give up Greek and Latin,
(Ending his lounging on couches of satin).
They added theology, that he might seek
An understanding, deep but meek,
Of morals and how they could be applied
If he wished to reach Heaven when he died.
And so, happily, he learned to keep God’s laws,
By putting Descartes before the whores.