An angle shot to a venture, As a teacher do I feature, Teaching left my senses blurred, Knowledge in a pool slurred, Students here go cool, Esteem in me in spool, Litters around I see, A dragging dross in me, A snickering sarcastic laughter, Sets out my teaching chapter.
A demeaning teacher, Nods to a peevish class, Knowledge at its trembling foot, Soars not higher than my boot, Language amidst torturous waves, Indifference in students caves My mind seeing it as a waste, It is society at the rate, Of few who are listening, Of many who are enjoying, If student there is any, I will count as many.
A poem from ‘Serenading Poems Part One’
