Zero, is for the f***s I give whenever you tell me what to do. One, is for the amount of bullets it would take to be the end of you. Now if I were to continue counting in this poem you will be very shocked. For all I know, I might end up in a jail sell locked. I know this whole thing may sound like cruel & unusual punishment. But with you being a teacher, so are your assignments. Yeah, we've all heard the sob stories about how "teachers are SO important"! But that doesn't mean you hammer us with work to death, just for your enjoyment OR employment. So what if your an everyday hero, it's not like my job is going to require me to know the solution to x + 0! And on top of all that, your crude attitude is the opposite of pleasant. It's like getting rocks from Santa as a Christmas present. If your unhappy with your career decision, don't take it out on me. Go talk to the college who handed you a glorified babysitting degree!