The Public School Teacher
If my mind were not so declining
my brain less terribly frail,
I might find life more delighting
and my fortunes less likely to fail.
But somehow I flunk at thinking
I falter when using my head.
My intellect off-light keeps blinking,
my thunker remains abed.
I read so as to augment,
hoping to somehow retain.
But soon I find I'm ceasing,
the effort too hard to sustain.
So my life is mule like working,
head down with burdens to bear;
most are born for labor,
only some for mindful repair.
Oh for the life of a scholar,
a life spent considering fact;
but really I cannot holler,
I'm paid well to keep up the act.
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