The ones I rarely talk of

Teaching has a heavy toll

It’s one I rarely speak of.

It’s not the tiredness

It’s not the work load

It’s certainly not my colleagues.

 

Teaching has a heavy toll

It’s hidden behind our smiles

It’s deep within our hearts

Touching us deep inside.

 

Teaching has a heavy toll

It’s in the faces

In front of us.

 

Some smile

Some sit

Some act up

You can’t always pick it,

But hidden beheath

The young facade

Are stories that make your heart bleed.

 

The parent who won’t take a child to get perscription glasses

The over crowded houses where there is no privacy

The child who protects his sibblings from the big DV

The child who is never told they are loved

The child sold for a sex ring

The child who lives with a friend of a friend because biology doesn’t want her

The child who had no food to eat for three days because her mother wasn’t hungry

The child who’s father gave her up – he couldn’t afford to keep her

The child that struggles every day to hide their illiteracy

The child that just lost two parents

I could go on for lines and lines

And never hit the end

Some stories bad

Some stories worse

These kids all have something in common

Each day they get right out of bed and put on their uniform

Then they walk right out their door and make it to their school

And then they hide behind

Their smile,

Their quietness

Or their rude behaviour

These children are the hidden toll

These children are the ones I dwell on

Someone it seems should do it.

These children take a heavy toll,

They rarely know anything different.

These children are the ones I rarely talk of.

 

 

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