Octagon

I never sat quietly, teachers were livid, but I still went on as if that didn't matter
some memories fade, others though, pretty vivid, and others are partial, they break up and scatter
I still talk too much, though the decades keep rolling, adjusted the topics from girl braids to asses
I know some of you will find that quite appalling, but me, I go on, even though I need glasses
Do not get me wrong, I don't whistle at strangers and generally as polite as required
But even though staring will sometimes endanger I still cannot help it, it keeps me inspired