The Maths Lesson
My chest was frozen
awaiting my fate,
a blackboard on which
I must write; alone.
He called my name, with
a smile and flicked his cane
as I walked by.
I stumbled as I reached the board.
No mercy would be shown,
as I scrawled the sum,
with trembling arm on blackened wood,
chalk screeched each number on.
The first lash struck behind my thigh,
I dropped with burning skin,
short pants expose my innocent limb.
The second struck my back.
I do not cry, it’s not allowed,
his spittle on my face.
I try again with chalk on board,
he screams; but I can’t hear a word!
The only thing that I can learn,
is the feeling of that cane,
on my arms and legs and on my face;
even I know , this teacher, is a disgrace.
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