All the leaves on the trees in the Quad are leaving
The very sky seems to be grieving
I make a note to not stop believing in my planner and
It’s Parents Evening again…
The evening train rattling back from London
The thunder in the suburbs of the half forgotten
Something inside of me is really rotten
And it’s ‘Parents Evening Again’
Too many Rubies, and too few Margarets
Who aren’t meeting all their targets
It’s amazing how fast and far away the past gets
And it’s Parents Evening again…
The clocktower in the moonlight’s a’ glinting
Somewhere a list of names is printing
High heels on tar-mac drives are sprinting
Because their late and it’s Parents Evening again
The cold coffee and half stale biscuits
Memories that stick to me like post-its
In the silence this sense of dread so confidently sits
And it’s Parents Evening again
In the overflow a 4X4 is parking
Somehwhere a rottie in the dark’s a’ barking
And I’m so very behind in my marking
And it’s Parents Evening again…
Comments
fatboy74 | November 18, 2011 - 21:59
i'm always so far behind with my marking and just when you think you've caught up...enjoyed this poem if not the content. :-)
Mark Heathcote | November 19, 2011 - 02:12
I thought this was a parent; maybe an absent father in divorce but surprize, surprize the ending was just great. :)