The+Bystander's+Tale

The Bystander’s Tale

(Link to Google Docs with footnotes--- https://docs.google.com/document/d/1a0opJTrsVi0EzhPuB6QAHdF4qMI1fqMgkn3VvWK9TXI/edit ) Here is a tale that is unlike others Because it might shame even your brothers. (And we all know how hard that is to do, Not that you scare them, but that they scare you.) And I know that many have a craving Insatiable, causing misbehaving, To drive some to crime, to speak “All men must die”, in another time, this reference, trust, Would make more sense to your children, and their’s. Ain’t we in the future? Too good for stairs? The reference is not so outdated, as To show age and wear. Enough with this jazz. Let’s stay on-topic, we must begin soon. Here is a tale of confusion, not swoon, Of perceived thievery, an adventure That follows, it’s a juicy thirst-quencher. For one’s greatest drive is loss of hunger And in such, they will never get younger For the weary, the tired, and the sad When one steals their food, they will get quite mad. When one thinks foolish enough to plunder, They don’t comprehend the wrath of thunder. How can someone think to be rather cruel? Rather, their idiocy deems: fool! Instead I have a riddle for you all, It takes a mind with the courage to fall, Those leaders and mind readers and pleaders, So answer me this, my faithful readers, What can be picked, but cannot be chosen? Be careful, don’t let the mind be frozen.

The story starts at the peak of the day Where teachers and students gather to say The language composition of writers And making the children feisty biters. One o'clock in the afternoon gives dread, Not from the class, rather, students feel dead. After math and science and exhaustion, Can a student be blamed to weigh a ton? When I say weigh, I mean the weight of long Endless days, endless studying, not strong Of their once creative minds, but let’s not Look at tempting issues, leave them to rot! In the class of Barra, anything will And can happen, it all depends, if still The class chooses to cooperate and Let forth flow their creative juices, and Ask, "What is a life well lived?" That I must Leave to you to decide, lest our brains rust. We must learn the ways of the rhetoric, Bathe in the art of debate, let it stick. It is in this class that we go beyond The walls of thinking, the comforts of bonds. Yet in this class, it's the unthinkable The act so terrifying, without soul To be the cause of hunger, of stale pain Only a disastrous enemy gains. And who would be the cause? Of the tale I Gather to tell? Who would commit the lie? And now comes the crux of our story Where the results may be rather gory.

There enters through the door, that little Neen Holding tight in her paw, soon to be seen. The bright colors and flavors of her game What the predators see as what to tame. Eyeing their prize target within arms reach They grab fast and unfelt as does a leech. How would little Neen know that her Reeses Would quickly turn from whole to shared pieces? Ask not how Neen did not see it's coming, But how it's coming saw Neen combusting. However minutes passed before poor Neen Realized her sweet was gone, horrid mean. She whips her head around like a mad man Screaming and crying and kicking, a sham! It seemed to Neen, she could not recover From this disastrous tale, she would hover. Who were these thieves? Who could break such a trust? Rather, Neen did not quite know, but she must. Perhaps it was that Charlene, or Instead her accomplice Rando, and for Connecting dots, perhaps Monique as well! That dastardly trio, that rang a bell. Neen knew what she had to do to confront Those villains, to put justice straight upfront, Perhaps if one of them would rather lie And to make others die for the Buckeye? No, Neen knew what she had to do to save Her rich Reese's, the situation grave. What happens next is up to you, reader. Did Neen succeed? Did she act a leader? That we arrive to the end of our tale Is imminent, the solution to nail The answer to cause a brain implosion: What can be picked, but cannot be chosen? A pocket! Of course, a pocket no else! Neen had felt tricked, a blow below the belt. Her Reese's were there, just there you can see "That pocket had made me a fool", said she. Our tale comes to an end, final in sight, But will that trio strike again, they might!