Teacher Poem by sushanta rokka

Bell rang; he came in, in his same old
Thin sweater, torn up shoe, in this morning cold.
Opened the register, holding in his hand a pen
Took attendance by calling our name.

Class started, everyone opened their book.
He teaches students silently staring look.
What he speaks, he writes or he teach,
And even explain, all out of students reach.

Few not listening, few confused, few understood
And reaming others complaining teachers not good.
Among all students I know how our teacher is? ?
He stays in my house in rent as he isn't rich.

Wife complains why he earns less money.
As he is in his room, children's crying dad honey.
Sorry children today your dad didn't get paid,
Hungry, that night all laid on their bed.
In home bad life, as a good teacher in school no1 sees,
Works hard sincerely but why is he still not rich

And we students don't know how life of teacher is
Students know, he isn't good, bad teacher he was and he is….

the end
(with all respect, this is dedicated to all my teachers who
had taught me till now and will be in future..)