Another Great Poem by Neil McArthur
THE SCHOOL REPORT
There's nothing more a student hates,
than the end of Term Report.
When parents learn the efforts,
were not quite what they thought.
Recorded marks are bad enough,
but how they dread that comment,
That takes a life of peace and quiet,
and turns it into torment.
If teachers would just simply say,
what students really do.
Instead of sugar-coating words,
confusing what is true.
Like when they say, "He works quite well
when I can supervise."
They really mean, If cornered,
the rat might compromise.
Or when they write that,
"Fellow students often follow him."
They fail to say, It's just to see,
the actions of a crim.
"He will be well remembered,"
for mostly gloom and doom,
"Of course he always brought much joy,"
when he left the room.
"You could say that he has the brains,"
though one seems very lost.
And the other's hibernating
in a place of permafrost.
"It's fair to say his attention span
is plagued with some shortcoming."
The gates are down, there's flashing lights,
but the train just isn't coming.
"He's not so much a has-been,"
but more a cannot-be
"And seems to have delusions,"
of some normality.
"When his IQ reaches fifty,"
my advice would be to sell.
"He's worn out five top teachers,"
our next phone call is Hell.
"He sets low standards for himself,"
and fails these miserably.
"Most youth do drink the cup of truth"
he gargles comparably.
There are some times we must be cruel,
in order to be kind.
Forget about the platitudes,
and say what's on our mind.
Like, "After fifteen years of school,
he still can't write or read,"
I strongly recommend to you,
don't let this bugger breed.