He thinks back to his school days
Wondering what was the point of it all
Most of it was worthless to him he now says
It set him up for a fall
His friends think the same as he
A girl he’s known for years more so
For they never achieved what they wanted to be
Trapped in a hell, no easy flow
What they learned has no relevance today
For they’ve had to relearn again
All they did back then was work, no play
This catholic school they were sent
Religious education and needlework
Both pointless to them both
It drove them mad, even berserk
It offered them no intelligent growth
Cookery, maths, English and history
Were something they accepted, didn’t mind
Even if sometimes they could be a mystery
They would work hard for answers to find
But sport bothered them most of all
He was rugby tackled, this skinny kid
Whilst the girls played rounders and netball
Climbing rope is sometimes all they did
What was the point in doing this?
What did it serve for future purposes
But still climbing are they now, clenched fists
They hark back to school, muttering curses
Caliburnus Rises 
I should feel every sympathy having been schooled at a rugby playing, latin teaching, academically dogmatic, prohibitively legalistic and causitrical catholic school. Ah… The memories! Nice write.
Haha, Thanks. God how I don’t miss it!