{Roses Are Red}: An Inappropriate Prom Invitation

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I’ve got a crush,

And it is on you.

 

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Let’s go to the dance,

If you would like to.

 

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

We can meet there at 8,

And be back by curfew.

 

Roses are red,

Poems should rhyme,

I forgot that adults

Don’t have a bedtime.

 

Roses are red,

It’s their main feature,

Who cares what they say

About student and teacher?

 

Roses are red,

They can also be thorny.

I hope this prom-posal,

Isn’t too corny.

 

Roses are red,

You think I am green,

Like math, I’m your subject,

Which makes you my queen.

 

Roses are red,

I don’t want you to fret,

That you are the object

Of a sophomoric bet.

 

Roses are red,

Do I have to mention?

I thought we had something

That day in detention.

 

Roses are red,

My heart’s all asunder.

Math teachers should know

Age is but a number

 

Roses are red

Thanks to you I am wiser

But I’d love you to be more

Than just my advisor

 

Roses are red

I don’t mean to be flip

But I’d like you to sign

My permission slip

 

Rose hips are red,

Your hips are a psalm.

Can’t wait to extol

How you move them at prom.

 

Roses are red,

Bouquets you deserve.

Be your tests or your body,

I’m in love with your curve.

 

Roses are red,

But with all due respects,

Who cares about why?

When we’re solving for X.

 

Roses are red,

Girl, why we still messin’?

Your angle’s a-cute

Like I learned from your lesson!

 

Forget protocol,

We won’t cause a stir

You need not be nervous—

Don’t you have tenure?

 

Roses are red,

Could you talk to the brass?

So that just for one night,

You get the hall pass.

 

Your excuses I’ve read,

They’re making me blue.

I shot my shot,

And you told me to shoo.