Two poems. Unrelated. That I have crossed paths with in the last couple of days. The first challenged me. The second, delightfully made me giggle with each little phrase.
THE AVERAGE CHILD
I don’t cause teachers trouble; My grades have been okay. I listen in my classes. I’m in school every day. My teachers think I’m average; My parents think so too. I wish I didn’t know that, though; There’s lots I’d like to do. I’d like to build a rocket; I read a book on how. Or start a stamp collection… But no use trying now. ’ Cause, since I found I’m average, I’m smart enough you see.To know there’s nothing special, I should expect of me. I’m part of that majority, That hump part of the bell, Who spends his life unnoticed, In an average kind of hell.
MY TEACHER WASN’T HALF AS NICE AS YOURS
My teacher wasn’t half as nice as yours seems to be. His name was Mister Unsworth and he taught us history. And when you didn’t know a date he’d get you by the ear, And start to twist while you sat there quite paralysed with fear. He’d twist and twist and twist your ear and twist it more and more. Until at last the ear came off and landed on the floor. Our class was full of one-eared boys. I’m certain there were eight. Who’d had them twisted off because they didn’t know a date. So let us now praise teachers who today are all so fine, And yours in particular is totally divine.