An Ode To Chemistry
Bell rings, in class again, with Shim trippin'
Over my outstretched legs. Head back, eyes closed,
I'm guessin' answers to this question posed.
Convertin' grams to moles, I'm grippin'
A razor blade, my love, and I walked it,
Along it's silver edge, cutting my feet
Struggling to keep my balance as it bit
Deep into my skin with no way to treat
To look upon you is a thing of joy,
Though I should feign blindness, I see you well,
You seem an angel, which from heaven fell,
Quiet by accident and are far too coy