The teacher groans, another day
of stunned indifference slips away.
Bored children rush the classroom door
as if to flee this crushing chore!
She turns and cleans the detritus
of young minds' fight with calculus
from the board behind the chair
and shakes her head with mute despair.
Soulless kids, from soulless flats,
with haunted eyes, like feral cats.
They know their place, they know their role,
No work, no pride, no hope. The dole.
A glance around the ravaged room,
so unlike the fertile womb
of learning that young people need,
to break the cycle and succeed.
She pauses then, and starts to smile,
contemplating for a while.
She was once, like them, astray.
And tomorrow is another day!