The Backbencher

I am always a backbencher

Uncomfortable meeting any stranger

Children used to laugh, children used to frown

With a confused face l looked like a clown

'Hey you backbencher, the worst and waste

Learn something from the first bencher who is the best Croaked

The frog-eyed teacher with his stern stare

My notebook he threw with pages teared

I gathered my notebook with eyes full of tears

The insult and the slap I could not bear

The night of that day I couldn't sleep

Soaked my pillow as I weeped

The dawn of the next day was full of colours

As arrived a delicate new teacher

Smiling was her face and stars in her eyes

Sweet was her voice full of life

Patted with love as she moved around each child

Flipped through my notebook and she cried

'What a Genius, God's gift oh my child'

Shocked was I with my eyes wide open

She lifted up my notebook to the class seven

See the boy drawn pictures with perfection'

'You're a Genius oh dear' she looked at me with affection

See the meadows, the skies and flowers with dew drops

The sketch of a child running through the crops

'You are not the boy 'run of the mill oh dear'

I will become a Great Artist I swear

For the first time, I stood but nobody slapped

Instead, everyone stood for me and they clapped

Everyone stood for me and they clapped.