If only I were half as smart as you think you are.
I’d have gall enough to admit
my faults, flying in the far-flung face of all my goals.
Know, then, unnumber'd Spirits round thee fly,
The light Militia of the lower sky:
These, tho' unseen, are ever on the wing,
Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring.
21/English Teacher/Happiness
