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Teacher, Teacher


I liked and respected the teachers
At my secondary school
But they say there's an exception
That breaks every rule.
So many years ago and still
I have total recall,
Straight from the pages of
Dotheboys Hall,

Ruling his classes by humiliation
And use of the cane,
Taking pleasure in inflicting both
Physical and mental pain.
He mocked our Yorkshire accents
Told us we were fools
Using scorn and ridicule as one
Of his few teaching tools.

A sadist and a bully
A man amongst boys
Inflicting public misery
One of his few seeming joys.
I Know I shouldn't say this
But I do, and with pride,
I cheered loudly and out loud
The day I heard he'd died.

So many years later and
I still can't  find any excuse
For his appalling behaviour
And his cruel mental abuse.
I so hope things have changed
In Modern teaching ways
And his ilk nor allowed to teach
In these more  enlightened days.






 







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