It’s my job to grade them
Tough ****, that
Praising one young person
And another their ****-up.

I love heaping praise not
Conveying bad news
Blackboard, fingernails, chalk
One more year and I walk

What a job!
Hearing young ones talk
Then the first stanza
Judgement.

I want there to be a last stanza:
Did I help you? Did you learn?
It is a sincere concern as I
Vacate my accidental career