Ten minutes to go before school is out
Twenty five past three, my life in mayhem,
And they are in their classroom
Not knowing that I am thinking of them;
At eleven years old
Their primary schooling almost complete
The best days of their lives
They have the world at their feet;
At sixty years old
My working life should be complete
Bar another seven years or ten
My misery replete;
Two minutes now, the bell to clang
Another afternoon spent,
Me, dredging efforts from an empty barrel
Theirs, cascading in wild abandonment;
The door opens, parents and grandparents gather
To safely collect, encircle with care
Me, only another two hours to go
Then home to see them there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem