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Wednesday, October 5, 2011

At the Courtyard


I attend your class every other day. You
Discuss things and make students do some stuff too.
Sometimes confetti is in the air. A happy song
Is heard. Sometimes the period just seems so long.
A dirge is playing, then I would console myself
By going to the Muse. Right there, I write a poem about an elf.
Another subject required me to think like you, see through
Your eyes. Facing the blank Word, I rack my brains
About how to start a lesson, but all I think is airplanes.
How do I crack the ice and stop the dirge from playing?
Every idea I think of gets worse, my creativity waning.
Then I see you in your office, absorbed in your own
Business, preparing perhaps, for another class. I should’ve known
You’ve got more to it than signing the square cards. It’s true
It is not that easy, the task assigned to you.

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