Slightly crazy writer and passionate educator for those who struggle
My feet feel like they’ve walked 1000 miles
In shoes made of inch thick lead.
The load they feel they’ve carried
Is often in my head.
I am so often envious
Of people who can let things fly
It seems to me that unlike some others
I carry loads that I cannot let die.
I worry about some stupid things
Things I cannot control
I toss and turn and squirm
Thoughts tunnelling in to brain like a mole.
I worry too much about my students
And how they fare at night
The empty of love table
Of all the bad things that might
I sometimes give to much of me
To those who do not care
And some I wish I could take home
And parent them, I wish I dared.
The tales that could be told
Of students struggling to find
A life that they can live
A life that is just a little kind.
These stories I do carry
And it is not good for me
I try to let the stories go
But they will not leave me be.