IB or not IB, that is the question-
Whether ‘tis safer in the school to suffer
The numbness of A-levels,
Or to take on IB hopes,
And by taking, lose face.
To Sleepy No more, and by Mad Max to say we end
The desire to talk about the constitution.
But I must reach Shirley’s resolution,
and tame these unruly boys
Except when Tony is in a philosophical mood.
‘Tis occasion devoutly to be wished,
when the class goes well, and Owen is interested.
In subcultures, perchance to write.
Aye , there’s the rub. For in that maze of grammar,
Kevin gets lost. No matter.
Eva and Chloe with interesting assignments
and Louis making sense,
Must give us pause. And respect
for bad boy rockers Daniel and Prime.
For who could bear the learner’s profile?
Without Mary’s humour,
Farron’s flashes of genius and Ryan’s screams?
Who would try the Greek Gods?
Unless Leo and Yvonne as Paris and Helen?
The undiscovered Frank and Vanora
from whose WA’s sense came issuing forth.
I would rather have a class full of Shinys and Serinas.
Than fly to Bob’s questions,
That I know not how to answer.
Some travelers may return.
So we’ll drink a cup o’kindness
yet with Sagi the wise and Edward the pave
Grow to shoot hoops with Rocky,
maybe learn some Wuhan Hua to impress Jane
And compassionate Shining, may your heart never waver.
And thus to Steven’s smiling spelling,
Martin – dedicated follower of fashion-
Farewell IBDP fifteen.
Gerry’s Soliloquy
