The kids attempt to push boundaries, see how far they can go,
I remember doing exactly that myself,
How droll to watch hot tears from a flushed art teacher,
What a scream! A sob, hot tears,
Red puffed cheeks, smudged lip gloss,
A smirk from my friends, (and my foes) .
Now, I am the authoritarian,
The 80's kids would never believe it, me, the naughty girl?
Rules and regulations - mine, itching to be broken
(by me most of the time) .
But, I mustn't laugh at their futile attempts to upset me,
I shouldn't crack a smile, (until after Christmas at least) ,
I mustn't give even an hint of amusement,
Definitely show no distress or weakness,
For then the little darlings have got you good and proper!
It's funny, cos they're just not so good at it as I was back in the day,
What's that old Black Country saying, 'Never kid a kidder! '
Maybe with practise, they will beat me,
But not for a very long time yet.
I have my armour on ready.
Meanwhile, I'll just sit back and enjoy the show,
While I work on my colleagues in the staffroom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem