If only my teacher would pick me
I always put up my hand
I scuffle and jiggle
Screw my face up and wriggle
And look like I understand
She tells me to “Shush! ,
There’s no need for that noise,
Sit straight, cross your legs,
turn around”
I’m so desperate to speak
Hear my voice, just a squeak
This hand is not coming down!
She’s seen me again,
But passes me by
I bet she thinks I am thick
I am going to burst
I have to be first
If I’m not I might just be sick
But….
I don’t know the answer
Or the question she asked
I just love putting up my hand
It feels great in the air
As I wave at her there
Floating off in my own dreamland
If she asks me, I will say “I forgot”
And look down like I’m sheepish and shy
Surely someone will tell me the answer
I’ll look good if I can reply.
If only my teacher would pick me
She tries not to catch my eye
Perhaps I should stand
Make a point and DEMAND
That she gives me a chance to reply
That’s it! I’m done, my hand’s coming down
I shall no longer try to impress
Ask Alfie or Mabel
And see if they’re able
To get picked with more success
If only my teacher would pick me
Instead of ignoring my plea
I’ll hold my breath till I’m red
And pretend I am dead
Next time she will surely choose me
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