She sits at her desk
Head on folded arms
Escape in school
From home-life harm.
Hunger gnaws at her belly
Tiredness in her bones
Where is parental love
And care?
She gazes at happy children
And wonders
Where is her chance?
Teacher
Sends her for toast.
One need met.
Tries to build confidence
Reassurance
Affirmation.
She heads home
To neglect.
Officialdom
Monitors closely.
Where is the love?
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Ouch!:( There may be love hidden somewhere in the hurts and recycled abuse of past lives. It’s a systemic problem unfortunately. How that must break your heart but I’m glad YOU are a teacher. WI
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Thanks. I still love my job even after thirty years. It just seems to be that there is more and more of this kind of thing in evidence. I really don’t recollect so much of it in the past.x
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