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Submitted by wellbelove on 13 October 2007 - 5:58pm.| Updated 13 October 2007 - 5:58pm.
Style / Type:
freeform
For every time you raised your hand
So many times I was made to pay
The only lesson you ever taught me
Was how to get out of the way
You would talk grandly
Of how one day i’d thank you
But the only thing you ever taught me
Was just how wrong you were
Your curriculum was black and blue
Your speciality how to hide a bruise
And as you lectured me on how horrible I was
I only learnt to hate you
As time has done its best to undo
Lessons learnt in the classroom that you ruled
Sometimes still when someone raises their hand near me
Instintictively still I cower away
And from the studies
You forced me to endure
From every lesson you beat me with
I learnt a teacher should not be a drunk
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Beloved ......Welcome to Neopoet.com
What a debut.This poem can bring healing even if it sucked(which it does not)The only thing that could improve it would be to write it on a Chalk board.While a rotten apple sits upon the teachers desk.
This is the complete package this poem.
Let the Healing Begin….!
Kind regards,
David
Hi wellbelove
I feel knuckles on the top of my head crashing through my esteem which is one thing I was taught. I choose not to teach. Your poetry is stunning, sad and so well done. I’m not sure if we really ever heal but I know it is within our power not to pass on the lessons but tell our stories of them, I know this brings an amount of relief.
Hugs for you,
Mark