Limericks

There once was a lad, quite ill-bred, Who fancied his wisdom widespread. He’d talk back with glee, To all, bold and free, Thinking his insight was ahead.

He scoffed at the elders’ old rules, Deemed them mere guidance for fools. With a smirk, he'd declare, “Why should I care? I’m far too smart for their schools.

But soon came a day, cold and stark, When reality hit like a lark. For talents were thin, His plans wore too thin, And life lost its earlier spark.

Now facing the grind he’d once mocked, He found his high hopes sharply blocked. Unless he could grow, And prove what he’d show, The next two years would be locked.

For the mentor was sharp and was wise, With laughter that cut and keen eyes.
Not vengeful or cruel, She played by the rule, But wit was her chosen disguise.

“Oh, prodigy, speak, if you dare, Show us the brilliance you wear.”
Her sarcasm bit, Each word a tight fit, Exposing his false savoir-faire.

He stumbled, he faltered, he learned, And under her gaze, he discerned:
Pride, without ground, Would spin him around, Till his worth was fully earned.

In time, he reshaped and he grew, She saw what persistence could do. Fair in her jest, She’d say with a test, “Now, prove that the best in you’s true.”