Fishing for Mister Chips

Some always slip through the net, it’s true
We try to dissuade them, with warning glances
Terrible teachings and shoulder chips too
Yet they look for their plaice in the world, take chances

And fall for the hook, a line not intended
To catch such minnows, keen though they wriggle
But tempt floury flounder, a proper five pounder
With pedigree fin-flop and scales well-landed

A gentleman filleted almost from spawning
Too easy, compliant and well-bred for yawning
When skinny fish sizzle, the dull never grizzle
For schooled in his duty, the fat fish stays snooty

And floats on the current, just goes with the flow
Content not to question the things he should know
The minnow is left to the rock-pool and stream
Abandoned, unwanted, to struggle and dream

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