J's poem

 I thank you, my teacher, my friend, that helps me improve my skills.

As I write with this pencil in my hand, the time you give to me is important.

So I am very happy to learn to brighten my future. 

I know it is good for me and never foolish to reach my goals.

Success turns gold.

So my ears hear as you speak to learn.

If I don't understand what you are trying to teach me, I will raise my arm.

Ms. Mary, I am very happy to learn.

Thank you for the time that I earn.

This is J's poem.  His career goal is to be a writer.  The original draft was written as one long sentence in one solid paragraph with many misspellings.  He, too, was someone I was able to give individual time last week with lowered attendance.  He cannot do math at all and his writing is pretty undisciplined.  But he wants to do well so badly.  How can I give up on him?