I can't wait until retirement day.
I can stop living in a fishbowl
and feel the sweet
breath of freedom.
Over twenty-five years
of watching what I say.
Being politically correct
and suffering fools with imagined power.
Walking a tight rope, not daring to breathe.
Work environment mired in politics and anti-teacher sentiments.
As is the way of the world
to that profession.
Now, if I'd been allowed the freedom to teach,
this poem would be different
and I would not want to retire
for years to come.
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