Where'er you go, where'er you seek,
His bewildered face appears,
Yet in matters large or commonplace,
His voice one never hears,
The forgotten man.
Immortalized in Presidential prose,
But neglected all the more--
It's experts this and experts that
And Interests by the score--,
There's no place for him.
Nor has the gridiron room for him,
No phys ed major he.
He has no Cadillac or scholarship
Nor threats in number three.
He sits in stone-cold stands.
Ring out your turkeys, then,
And giblet gravy, too,
Jubilation, at least 'round here,
At long last now is due.
He finally made it.
Could thanks ever be more justified
At this Thanksgiving time?
No more a shadow, but a blazing star,
On his back was 99.
Forgotten no more.
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Design --- A School Without Direction