LIFE’S MANY CLASSROOMS -- MATH’S
Sitting at a desk at school, teacher, a know it all
Pumping math’s into my uncomprehending scull,
Black gowned, she bent over me like a large crow
Not understand me at all, or why I did not know
Anything about maths, and never able to show
about calculus, or even how fast the water did flow
Out of a bath with no plug as the tap ran fast,
It seemed too dumb to me, no wonder I never passed
Or many others too, who failed , for she did not teach,
She scowled, pointed out even began to try and preach,
But she was a black crow with no feelings at all,
Except to really dislike those who from grades did fall.
If she would have smiled once showed a hint of caring,
Rather than to other bright students me always comparing,
I may have understood math and enjoyed it’s mysteries,
If the black crow had been human and put me at my ease.

M Ann Margetson. February 22, 2002