Science used to be his game,
Then the library called his name.
And now he sits there in his nook
Nourishing himself with a book.
Marvel not should he require
Appropriate and clean attire.
Rules are made and must be kept,
True, even if you are inept.
Instruction he does give to all,
No problem drives him up the wall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent ... you are becoming hooked on rhyming and acrostic.. rhythm falling into place as well. I enjoy clever disciplined writing I think I am going to have to get you drawing.