Blues For The Teacher Condemned By Officialdom To Toil In The Alcatraz Of The Slums
To be disrespected and hounded out of a classroom
Full of pupils whose breaths stink of marijuana,
To be howled at by their alcoholic parents who give not
A damn about their drunk and deviant children's education,
To be their pawn in the racket of this miseducation
To watch with silent fascinated disbelief as they divert
And loot into their bulging pockets the money meant to be
Thrown away into the bottomless hole of black education,
To be a tool in the hands of the principals who gobble the school funds,
To be used by the H.O.Ds and the L.Fs whose
Ambitions is to rapidly advance their own careers at one's expense,
To be loyal and obedient to a government that underpays you,
To be dedicated to a profession that is infested
With the mediocre and the self serving,
To be surrounded by mass stupidity every day,
To be humiliated and denounced at will by officialdom
Throughout the bitter years of one's teaching career,
To be pursued by creditors and long lost lovers,
To be driven to alcoholism,
To look back in despair,
To collapse in a heap of broken
Dreams and wishes and ambitions
To be like the ornament of the ghetto
To be forgotten
To die
poem by Ngaka Motaung
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
