My Dear Pedagog,

How could it be your pedagogy places me out of line,

But in time, I'll reform to so the norm of thine?

Do I proceed and excell and be praised to do well,

Or should I fail to fly? 'Cause it's so hard to tell.

But you're not alone in the group I shall ask,

For you should not fear to take on this great task,

Of finding an answer for thus query I've said,

Because it has left me with pain in my head,

For I've thought long and hard 'til my poor mind was sore,

That I shouldn't have limits to face anymore.

So my Pedagog, riddle me this,

For I know deep inside I don't want to be this.

A puppet on a string on which you will pull,

To keep me behind, to keep me so dull.

I know that there's more to myself to express,

So as for restrictions, I'd give them a rest,

For the me I can be is clearly the best.