By William Curvan
Though few are my abilities
Do humor my soliloquy,
Compelled, am I, to draw esteem
To my beloved hall of Wean
Rejecting towers tall and lean
With skyward searching walls and beams
A broad and solid concrete scene
You give to us, O hall of Wean
Never could one ascertain
Your magnitude in passing gaze,
Your buried floors, though most unseen
Belie your scope, O hall of Wean
Exhaustion often makes me seek
A respite on a bag of bean.
Sorrels, ensures consistently
I find my peace in hall of Wean
And while I scheme my morning schema
O’er a beverage di La Prima
The bustling crowds and ‘spresso steam
Ignite my day, in hall of Wean
Though critics often will remark
Your architect’ral lack of charm
They simply don’t attempt to seek
Thy hidden beauty, hall of Wean
Square as matrices galore
Like those I learned in 254.
Unfailingly mathematically
Consistent, is the hall of Wean
And should there ever pass a day
Thy breadth does not take mine away
I’ll mourn the loss of awe and glee
You strike in me, O hall of Wean
Enlighten me, O hall of Wean.
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