Sparks fly in high-school,
Hormones are all over the place.
But there are some elements
That cause blushing on every face!
Look back, and things are 10X more hilarious.
Than when you lived those times.
What sems like inspired laughter,
Was pure melancholy and limes.
'Cause if it had been lemons,
You'd make lemonade.
When life gives you limes,
You know you need aid.
Of a mental health expert.
Especially in this context.
If we'd rather not recall it all,
It'd probably be for the best!
But then, if wishes were horses...
Help me complete the line.
There once was a Molotov
When the hours were happy and fine.
Now, not all who read this would get it.
Unless you were part of that story.
Mind you! Things were nasty.
And in your head, pretty gory.
Because hearts were breaking,
War was on.
Just to claim Molotov,
New lovers, daily, were born!
Was it just young girl students?
Or cute gay guys too?
Who looked at Molotov a certain way
And suffered a lasting flu.
A flu of the heart,
An ailment of emotion
That blinded your judgement
And created so much confusion.
But who was this Molotov?
A Russian baron in a school?
What era did he live in?
Was it outdated? A fad? Or is he still cool?
Interesting enough, what I concur
From my experience that lasted a bit long.
Molotov is not one person.
It's easily a phenomenon!
For in every century, decade, 365-days,
A new Molotov is born
In a school, junior-college, uni,
New, blooming love is sworn!
A new Math teacher,
A young History professor,
Or even a classy Dean.
Recurring in all its hilarity,
A new Molotov is seen!
Hormones are all over the place.
But there are some elements
That cause blushing on every face!
Look back, and things are 10X more hilarious.
Than when you lived those times.
What sems like inspired laughter,
Was pure melancholy and limes.
'Cause if it had been lemons,
You'd make lemonade.
When life gives you limes,
You know you need aid.
Of a mental health expert.
Especially in this context.
If we'd rather not recall it all,
It'd probably be for the best!
But then, if wishes were horses...
Help me complete the line.
There once was a Molotov
When the hours were happy and fine.
Now, not all who read this would get it.
Unless you were part of that story.
Mind you! Things were nasty.
And in your head, pretty gory.
Because hearts were breaking,
War was on.
Just to claim Molotov,
New lovers, daily, were born!
Was it just young girl students?
Or cute gay guys too?
Who looked at Molotov a certain way
And suffered a lasting flu.
A flu of the heart,
An ailment of emotion
That blinded your judgement
And created so much confusion.
But who was this Molotov?
A Russian baron in a school?
What era did he live in?
Was it outdated? A fad? Or is he still cool?
Interesting enough, what I concur
From my experience that lasted a bit long.
Molotov is not one person.
It's easily a phenomenon!
For in every century, decade, 365-days,
A new Molotov is born
In a school, junior-college, uni,
New, blooming love is sworn!
A new Math teacher,
A young History professor,
Or even a classy Dean.
Recurring in all its hilarity,
A new Molotov is seen!
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| Source: districtdispatch.org |
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