Roast

Our teacher cried today,

His students led astray.

 

He thought we saw it funny,

Our heads so full of shame.

His pockets lack of money,

Our lousy work to blame.

 

His voice, it wasn’t soothing,

Nor did he stomp or yell.

We students sat there brooding,

Just waiting for the bell.

 

“But students, how can you be

So hopelessly mistaken,

I tried so hard, why can’t you see?”

He trembled there, was shaken.

 

We could not laugh nor shed a tear,

He could’ve asked to lend an ear.

 

Or left the door so open wide,

To give a chance to run and hide.

 

But no, we sat, our fingers flat,

Some nosy, no-good, hopeless brats.

And watch our teacher fall to tears,

His resolution gone and clear.

This poem is about: 
My community

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