"The Craven," by Mark Salangsang
Once upon a morning dreary
In stats class I was weak and weary.
Pondering over last night鈥檚 homework
Whose answers were now on the board
This I did and nothing more.
While I nodded nearly napping
Suddenly, there came a tapping.
As someone gently rapping,
Rapping my head as I snore.
Quoth the teacher, 鈥淪leep no more.鈥
鈥淚n every class you fall asleep,鈥
The teacher said, his voice was deep.
鈥淪o a tally I鈥檝e begun to keep
Of every class you nap and snore.
The percentage being forty-four.鈥
鈥淢y dear teacher I must confess,
While sleeping is what I do best.
The percentage, I think, must be less,
A percentage less than forty-four.鈥
This I said and nothing more.
鈥淲e鈥檒l see,鈥 he said and walked away,
And fifty classes from that day
He counted till the month of May
The classes in which I napped and snored.
The number he found was twenty-four.
At a significance level of ,
Please tell me am I still alive?
Or did my grade just take a dive
Plunging down beneath the floor?
Upon thee I hereby implore.