When teachers are too tired to write

they photocopy pages

of complicated, useless things

That seem to last for ages.

They could have written notes themselves

that we could understand.

If we could read their writing

in their very shaky hand.

Copies all are given out

to uninterested eyes

who never read them anyway,

hate work in any guise.

So when the final bell is heard

we hear the leaving din

They crumple up these boring words

and throw them in the bin.

OK. So some might keep the notes

but when they should re-read

They find that they have lost them

in their very hour of need.

So the moral of this story is

that trees are slain in vain

while thrownaway, unwanted sheets

lie sodden in the rain

And trodden on by muddy feet

(that’s something they delight in)

So turn the photocopier off

and make them do some writing.