Ghost of Drama teachers past

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Nine years ago, an email, from a senior female
Colleague, called me to her office, my progress to review
She kept me there forever, but I knew at once that never
Would she sign off on a pay rise for Yours Truly, that is true.

My reply was sent quite quickly; it was terse and fairly prickly
But there’d never be a happy end for me on that, which sucked
But my mission was in teaching, so I gave up my beseeching
Them for extra pay; the players in that farce could all get …

Focused on their vision, where they saw with some precision
Ways to keep the classroom teacher busy, dancing to their song
To the table, data bringing, departmental tunes we’re singing
And gurus have us log it all, so they can sing along

But there’s always kids to meet us, as their raucous voices greet us
In lesson after lesson as we guide them every day
And although I gripe, it’s splendid, this career that has extended
Over forty years of seeking, at last to find my way

Now, it is with some elation, as I stand, in contemplation
Of a lifetime in the classroom, of a calling and career, (and)
Quote the song, ‘I did it my way’, along each road and byway
And face the final curtain and a future without fear

So, farewell for now, but never think my going is forever
I’m still at large around about, so don’t be too downcast
Soldier on, and be undaunted; unafraid of being haunted
By the spectre of Yours Truly, ghost of Drama teachers past …

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