MY TEACHER, MRS HUGHES
I never really liked school that much, but I will dedicate this letter to
A strange bearded lady, named Mrs Hughes, also known as Mrs Creature.
You asked us all to write an essay on the world’s greatest poet, cheeky bitch failed me for basing my project on Tupac Shakur;
I tried to explain, “Miss, poetry is simply music which has lost its beat”, but that didn’t stop you throwing my paper to the floor.
Dear Mrs Hughes, I always said one day I would write a book, and I would somehow throw you out a mention;
I saw your bearded face on the news last month, so you’re still complaining about your school fucking pension.
I know you saw me getting bullied, but all you did was laugh;
You would just hide yourself away, as you smoked out the private room set aside for the staff.
I had to spend hours in isolation for simply refusing to call the
Head master, Sir,
Sorry I must have missed him being knighted by the Queen;
They would always shout “BARRY, YOU WILL NEVER SUCCEED, SO JUST GIVE UP CHASING THAT DREAM,
STOP AIMING SO HIGH, YOU WERE ALWAYS DESTINED TO BE AN UNDER ACHIEVER”;
How can they preach to me, when they hire “a closet hiding football coach”, who is desperate to find a new young receiver.
When I finally left school I didn’t hang around, so there were no false goodbyes;
I guess Mrs Hughes became an actress, as I swear I saw her in that movie
“The Hills Have Eyes”.
The one thing I did learn is not to let anyone say it’s impossible to achieve your dream, it is our destiny to choose;
To my dearest bearded teacher,
BARRY MOWLES ©2012