My School Report Poem by Phil Soar

My school report was handed to my father to review
It was so bad, that poor old dad, did not know what to do
He scolded me when he got home, and asked me to improve
I said I felt I was okay, and had nothing to prove

My mother wasn't so displeased, she knew that I was dim
She said my dad was useless, and I'd taken after him
And when the teacher spoke to me, about the way they felt
I said They thought it was the hand of god that had been dealt