In for a penny, in for a pound
Never give up until you have found
Not just the pieces but the answer in full
Or you’ll never know how close was the goal
In for a penny, in for a pound
Hard work is scarce while opinions abound
Too often the answer is known by none
Until you’ve slogged through the race to be run
If you find this note it means
Our fight has reached its D-Day
We have planned and mapped and schemed
Through hostile land full survey
Our weapons all assembled now
For our offensive essay
The troops are ready to march forth
From our long-sealed hideaway
Our victory will come at last
A new life won today
Low shuffling roar as the onlookers
Like marbles, each roll to a chair
‘Pomp and Circumstance’ swells and unfurls
A red carpet high up in the air
The black caps come marching in two by two
With the fragrance of freedom fresh and cool
As they step through the last of the twirling hoops
Of the long slinky tunnel of school
After one last powerful stage show
From the gatekeepers of degrees
While the bobbing sea of black diamonds
Keeps from bumping their hats and their knees
Each graduate parades across the stage
To be recognized for their achievement
The taut threads of hush in the audience snap
Into fireworks of bursting excitement
The black caps go marching out two by two
On the swell of the crowd and the music grand
But after all’s quiet, what really counts
Is the hard-won diploma each holds in their hand
Three months of snow and ice and cold
An arctic polar land
Three months of scorching, humid heat
A home on desert sand
And in between, three months of rain
A muddy flooded strand
But the other three months rival none
Rare days of warmth and green and sun
That’s why Ohio’s so grand
Up the creek without a paddle
No way to get by
Just have to get back in the saddle
And give another try
They say it’s not rocket science
Well I have no PhD
But if you want to hear my two cents
It looks worse than math to me
Not those who leap, but those who trod
The narrow road with feet unshod
Are conquerors – those who scheme and snare
To fill with stolen wealth their lair
Ride on all those who walk the sod
Tis those who daily bear the fraud
Who find their way on roads so flawed
May sing the final victory prayer
Not those who leap
The mansions have no hills to plod
Nor deep pits hidden in the sod
To burn in meanness, heap with care
And rob of safety, food, and air
For conquerors are the ones who trod
Not those who leap
