A Teacher's Lot

A Teacher's Lot!!

The scourge of every class, I'm told,
Is not the children who are good as gold,
It is not the children who sit nicely and smile,
You know that they have done nothing vile.

It is not those who like to read and write,
They have no need to look contrite,
But if a child wears a devilish grin,
Be sure, they have commited some odious sin.

If they look at you in mock wonder,
Check their pockets for spoils of plunder,
Ignore their lies and exaggerations,
Hold no hope of truthful explanations.

This seemingly innocent little creature,
Is bound to embarrass you, the teacher,
By spreading glue on the seat of your chair,
Or accidently cutting off a lock of your hair.

Beware, you who enter this profession,
Naughty children are beyond obsession,
They lie, they cheat, they fidget about,
They fight, they tease, they scream and shout.

When you threaten them, they curse,
The little blighters just get worse,
By the end of the day, your nerves will be shot,
Your throat raw, your head achy and hot.

You could stay at home for a few days rest,
Get someone else to put patience to the test,
But what is the point when you already know,
It will happen again when back you go.

So take you ostrich head out of the sand,
And keep a sly stiff drink at hand,
Hold your head up, look them straight in the eye,
Grit your teeth, try not to cry.

This is a teacher's lot from day to day,
Almost unbearable, except for the pay,
Nobody else could do what we do,
How would they cope with their foot in our shoe.

We are exceptional, brave and tough,
We take a little smooth with a lot of rough,
One day our work will be applauded,
And our undoubtable efforts well rewarded.