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The substitute teacher comes in all grins, giggles, and smiles.
Her resume’ runs on for a thousand and six hundred miles.
She is perky and ready, and thinks it is going to be fun.
By noon she’s ready to call it quits we even saw one run.
Her hair is all crisp and clean when she enters our school.
She thinks she knows what we are about, and she is ready to rule.
The children do not know her, nor do they care to ever learn.
They want their real teacher, they are quick to show and discern.
I watch these subs get sick and make glorious excuses galore.
Many are screaming by two o’clock, some are out of the door.
The brave ones who usually stay the entire day here, 
Are the ones who were teaching for twenty one or so years.
They lay down their rules, and the children finally obey.
These diehard seasoned ones usually last ‘til the end of the day.
Last year at the end of the year we were exceedingly sad,
To see five retire, the best crazy we had ever had.
They were in their eighties and nineties and they knew how to rule.
They were consistent, and fair, even though some did sort of drool.
A few fell asleep at their regular eleven o’clock nap time,
But we did not care, as they continued to show up, and always on time.
I was a sub, and I told them not music, but they begged me at Lake Sand.
I nearly walked out when I found I had to teach choir, guitar and band.
I substituted in kindergarten once, and it was my worst job.
Three children walked out, and two others did wail, whine and sob.
A substitute teacher should earn loads of respect.
For showing up twice, and not going for an incorrigible child’s neck.
We do not have to listen to you, the ornery, disobedient children say.
You are not our teacher, not realizing she is, until the end of the day.

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