‘Tis the season for giving. Yes, we have a Scrooge McLameduck wanting to take kids schools away for the holidays. But I found this poem written by a certain Governor. Not really, but it was fun writing it.
Twas the night before Christmas, in the DOE house, not a computer was whirring, not even a mouse. All the teachers were hanging, by the Governor’s chair, in the fears that more charter schools, soon would be there.
The students were testing, all cramped like the dead, while Visions of rigor, danced in their heads. And Murphy in his suit, and Markell on his throne, had just settled down, their faces like stone.
When out on the playground, a student said no. Markell rose from his tonic, and said we have to go. Away to the window, the other students looked, they all jumped out, Murphy’s goose was cooked.
The moon shone on…
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