Mr.B

I have a friend,
He's like a friend.                                                   

His name is Mr.B,
he's not much of a guy.

He thinks he's cool and dreamy,
But in reality,he's just nerdy.
He thinks he's come from dreamland,
But,alas,it was just finland.

Be it math or sports,
He has doubts.

Be it cuprous or ferrous,
he likes to use Pythagoras.

He's bit of a robot,
he takes permission to fart,
And notes he makes on and on,
until the teacher says "you are wrong",
As you can imagine,
for such a disposition,
that's a rare phenomenon.

He's a man of precision,
And is filled with ambition.

He's a man of practicality,
in the sense,
he turns theory into reality..

Everyone here's learnt aerodynamics,
 But he's the only one,
He's one of a pedigree,
who puts his hands back
and shifts his tail fin a 30 degree.      


One day I went to the theatre with friends and self,
and Mr.B self-invited himself.
In the interval, he came to me with 'darr'
and asked me whether he could take the burger
to the theatre.

We had our bit of fun with him too.
Once I made a hole in his bottle,
with which he used to fiddle.
And yes, he did complain,
for which I was left an albatross plain.

You don't need to be a geek
to understand he's a freak.

To conclude,
I would like to quote Mr. B himself.
"I am Mr.B,
don't mess with me."