Grey straw hair entwined in a bun
Tweeds like a man’s
Your blouse well done
Glasses perched on the tip of your nose
Brown brogue shoes
Fiercely covering your toes
English you taught and you knew it well
But us little people couldn’t wait for the bell
“I’ll, tell you lot when it’s time to go,
the bells for me, not you, you know”
I stood and I waited, with the utmost fear
The stench of your breath
When you came quite near
It was time for me to put out my hand
That small piece of flesh
That you couldn’t stand
You whacked me twice with all your might
That black rigid strap
With its painful bite
My hand was hot it stung like hell
I glanced at your face
You smirked, I could tell
I blew and I blew, didn’t shed any tears
All I heard was the bell
Glorious music to my ears
