I once went to Phanidhar, like I considered him a doctor.
As if I complained my illness, I explained about my weakness.
Chemistry never scores me marks, Leaving me behind in the darks.
The other subjects score is well, My chem marks Go to Hell.
Hearing everything, he gave a look And just prescribed me a book.
I was happy; I was glad. I threw all other books I had.
The book was so large, Solomons Filled with Organic Halogens.
I thought of giving it a peep, As I held it, I fell asleep.
Somehow finally, I read and read, Feeding everything into my head.
I was sure the PET was mine. Alas! I got a minus nine.
