Good Friday


I thought I’d share with you a poem I wrote a long time ago.

Good Friday


They say today Your Son was killed

To save the world from sin,

But just next door in 804

They’re fighting over gin.

And right outside my window

Little Johnny’s getting high

And throwing rocks and cherry bombs

At every passerby.

And Ruby called me yesterday

‘Cause Jake’s in jail again,

And just right now I wish that I

Was fighting over gin.

Now I know Your ways aren’t always clear,

And who am I to say,

But it seems that its been mighty long

That I have had to pay.

And love your neighbor’s

Alright with me

And turn the other cheek,

But if Heaven is my just reward,

Could you spare a little peek.

‘Cause just right now I gotta say

That I can’t take much more

Of doors that close in front of me

And Mama scrubbin’ floors.

Now they say today Your Son was killed

To save the world from sin,

But just right now I think I’ll go

And get myself some gin.

–Mark E.P. Roberts (teachermandc)


About Mark E.P. Roberts

teachermandc is Mark E.P. Roberts, a middle-aged, high school English teacher entering his ninth year of instructing young minds. This blog is an attempt to capture the challenge of teaching and the essence of learning. At a time when DC has become the epicenter of educational theory, this blog will keep its preferred focus on students in an somewhat typical DC high school. I have taught in both public and private schools. To date, 95% of my students are of color. All names have been changed, and complaints about in-house politics will be avoided. Hope you enjoy.
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