This one’s in memory of two extremely bitchy and patronising teachers at Silverdale Sixth Form College that I’ll never forget and now they’re immortalized in a poem. Revenge is sweet;-). I was particularly frustrated at the time as I didn’t appreciate that I was nearing adulthood, had chosen to continue my studies and was still treated like a kid by these teachers. There was even a bloody dress code of no jeans, which is fine when you are forced to go to school, but when it’s a voluntary thing, it doesn’t seem right somehow.
I’ve known unpleasant people
Who really aren’t so nice
But there’s not one person on this earth
Who’s quite like old Miss Price
She’s bony, tall and has grey hair
Her eyes can pierce you with their stare
And if they do, you must beware
She really is a narky mare
There’s another teacher who isn’t quite so tall
And this old goat has white hair
Her name is Waterfall
She is the chief librarian
But thinks she’s head of state
She thinks she is the cock o’ the roost
But she really ain’t that great
She tells you off for whispering
You’d think it was a church
She watches you with eagle eyes
As she sits upon her perch
