On a race
To catch the best
with steps without retrace.
Angry though with smiles they protest-
With nerdiest of grins, we have them arrest.
Smeared them faces with hands, the powdered beryl hue.
Perverts fill their minds with thoughts to molest-
Filthy hands groping for their breast.
Not I, I'm not Scapegrace-
Nor breast obsessed.