The Principal

When I was a child,
The ditty ' The Principal is your pal'
Meant that I could at least spell the word correctly.
And for the most part,
The Principal was my pal.
Someone I respected and feared,
Just a little.
Someone I wanted to impress.

Now I know, the sometimes thankless profession,
That is, being The Principal.
Ever questioned by disgruntled entitled parents,
Are the motives of  The Principal.
Who of course is out to victimise their precious little darlings.
Who does nothing to stop the bullying, apparently perpetrated on their baby,
The biggest bully in the school.
For of course despite their lack of qualifications,
The parent is by far the better pedagogue.

The school just lets the children run riot.
The school works the students too hard and has no other extracurricular activities.
Or the school is doing so many other extracurricular activities the students aren't learning.

How dare The Principal question any person's parenting skills,
Even when children arrive dirty and unfed.
Or are reticent to return home to the loving bosom of their families.
How dare The Principal suggest that a child may need educational support,
Because they have a learning challenge,
When it is clear that the child is a genius.

I have observed the school mafia at the gate weaving their intrigues.
I have seen them cut The Principal down till they leave,
Anxious and disillusioned of their noble profession.
And I have read the abusive correspondence,
Which must remain confidential,
While the parent mouths off around town.

Yes I know the disdain and even hatred poured onto a Principal.
But I have also seen the love poured onto the students,
By The Principal.