On the first day of school
they troop in, for formal learning,
six to seven years of age,
parents hope for some disciplining.
They’re afraid, anxious and apprehensive,
angelic, adorable and attentive,
too abashed to do any answering,
they accept all your accounting.
Give them a few months
to get used to your instruction,
at the end of the year they leave you
with mixed consternation.
They’re atrocious, aggravating and assertive,
argumentative and authoritative,
your attire they scrutinize,
your Achilles’ heel they analyse.
