Imagine a system out of control
One within which your original goal
Is stymied and jostled, you’re pushed off your mission
You lack motivation and predisposition.
Where original aims and plans for the future
Like prone on the floor like a disposable suture
Ripped from the patient, before he had healed,
Leaving deep scars and terrible wheals.
Imagine a process in which you had hope
One within which you felt you could cope
Until realisation, it came unto you
That what you are doing is Catch 22.
Your job’s unrewarding, stressful and sad
You’re constantly wondering why it’s so bad.
Is this a profession, or is it a joke
To make the lot work would give you a stroke.
Imagine a job that’s more like production
One within which you're on auto-destruction
Producing consumers who one and all
Repeat what they learned; if they can recall.
How could it be? With almost no stopping
That learning got hijacked and became more like shopping?
Browsing for this and searching for that;
Like copies of copies of old photostat.
Imagine a world where learning’s encouraged,
Where teaching means something; not constantly rubbished
Imagine a world where learning is treasured
Not just certificated or similarly measured.
How would it be if we de-schooled society
Focused on learning and made it all free?
So learning became our most precious possession
We all became part of the teaching profession.
Imagine some learners wanting to learn
New things and old stuff; each in their turn
Wanting to read, wanting to listen
Keen to find out; their minds to position.
How would it be if for learning to distil
We plugged into a network of specialised skills
Learned what we wanted, learned what we sought,
The world might improve, if only self-taught.