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.
Just trying to catch up on some posts I’ve missed recently and came across this, Becky. Lighter than some of your other stuff, and entertaining, even if it does have a message.
Good to see you again yesterday. Hope you got plenty out of the day. I’ll be in touch soon to organise getting together
Hi Graeme. I’ve found a handwritten book of poetry from the 1990s and some lines from this resonated. Great to see you too! See you soon.