I must be evil

I must be evil

Wrap my knuckles

Hard with a bamboo cane

The edge of a wooden ruler

Slice my calves

With a leather flay

A slipper called Betsy

I never flinch from a clip

Around the ear

The piece of chalk flicked

From the other side of the class

The board eraser

Thrown unerringly

From the front

Missing the bunsen burner

Travelling over the heads

Of all but mine

My left eye

Benefits from a permanent shine

No matter how many times

The pen is ripped out of my hand

It will always find a way back

It follows no path

But always travels right to left

Why can I not position the knife

On my left, fork on my right

You change it

Even when I am seated

Rearrange it

Why not

I will

I could never master writing

With a quill

Why so sinister a phenomenon

As to be so wrong

You would burn me

As a witch

I put my left foot forward

At the start of the day

It is the right foot for me

Let me be

I am a proud lefty

Plain and simple.