(for Moss Lane School)
It’s been that kind of day at school
When you know you just can’t win
The school cat has been sick again
And no biscuits in the tin
Lesson plans need updating
Reports, you still have plenty
The head teacher is on your case
The biscuit tin is empty
The school cloakrooms are flooded
We can’t find Michael’s shoe
No biscuits in the biscuit tin
Now what are we to do?
For when your class runs riot
And you cannot stand the din
Retreat into the staff room
And eat biscuits from the tin
When it’s a wet playtime
And it’s windy and it’s snowing
Custard creams and hobnobs
Are all that keep you going
So here I sit, all on my own
Feeling blue and wondering why
There are no biscuits in the tin
I think I’m going to cry.
3 comments:
One of the most tragic poems I've read recently! My heart goes out to those poor biscuitless teachers.
Great idea - about the lack of biscuits. Did you watch that prog last night about the actress who went into a school in the North East for a week and ended up in tears most days! "I'm an actress - not a teacher!"
She had a new found respect for teachers and what they go through after the week was over.
Crumbs, wot no biscuits? Mister Clarke has no ginger nuts and Miss Cleft no Hob Nobs to chew on? Whatever next.
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