by Nick Gisburne
Too many boys are buried in this school.
I pray their fate will never fall on you.
The master is a tyrant, not a fool;
Be careful where you whisper, when you do.
The fellow from that soiled, dishevelled bed,
When taken with a fever, disappeared.
Abandon any questions in your head;
Let ignorance be welcomed, and revered.
We educate the finest, the elite.
The mightiest are forged within these walls,
But those who spill our secrets, indiscreet,
Discover how a traitor truly falls.
You sit with some extraordinary men.
Be brave, dear boy. Take heart. You’re only ten.
