Registration, in they come
Dismissive, rude and slumped
Eye contact is not engaged
But fists are often bumped.
Names read out, grunts come back
Listed down and ticked
Jimmy says that he was late
'Cos me dad's car got fuckin' bricked'.
Bell goes off, out they slither
To classrooms far and wide
Replaced by more who do the same
A never ending tide.
I try to teach, I try my best
It quickly becomes a chore
As nothing ever registers
Because I'm 'a bastard bore'.
What rules we have are always broke
The kids, they rule the school
Us teachers are invisible
To pupils often cruel.
The day will end, I trot off home
And ask myself each night
Why do I bother? Why do I teach?
It's an everlasting fight.
Saturday, April 4, 2026
NaPoWriMo 2026 - Day 3: The Teacher
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
I recently saw an interview with the oft deadpan (and slightly awkward) comedian and actor Richard Ayoade, speaking about his latest book, ...
-
Onions are great. When you hear people turn their nose up at onions, I feel a combination of sadness and happiness, knowing they eat them ...
-
A kenning is a compressed, two-word metaphor used to describe an object, person, or concept, often found in Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse poet...
No comments:
Post a Comment