A man stares out over a sea of desks
He is aged, as is his wisdom
Immaturity talks from numerous seats within the square
Mostly of issues it doesn’t understand
- And the teacher smiles
Times they are a changing
Middle-aged folks are embarrassed to be among the teenagers
We pay for knowledge, not to be the earpiece for the MTV followers who just won’t shut up
- And the teacher smiles
His arm extends, shaking with a paper
Its surface is decorated with red ink, not sticky stars
He tells the class that he is proud of the students work
Subliminally speaking to a select few
We leave, feebly mastering the subject
- And the teacher smiles
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