Counting The Cost Of Sacrifice Poem by Robert Dummett

School is silent, pupils gone
Carrying the cutting edge of minds sharp.
He steps down the stone stairs, clunks the gate
And locks chain in a click. With portfolio
In hand and papers to mark, he presses on.
This Potter works his wheel with no spin,
No spoils to fashion vessels, save to shape
Their world and cull out the future with form.
But many go blind when he goes by.
He is heading home now, yet no red carpet
Is laid, no welcome mat, no one shares
His accomplishments, no sign to greet him,
As evening rehearsed a separation.
He will choose fast food again, ingest it
Slowly and nip his favourite tipple,
Pressing solitary mode to mark answers.
In the scallop of his shell,
In the marrow of his bone,
In the sinew of his soul,
He counts the costs of sacrifice, smiles
Content knowing such little vessels
Are treasures that one day will bank the world.