It’s weird when I look back on things I wrote years ago. Sometimes it takes me back to a feeling, situation, and place that I’m very glad I have moved past. And, it reminds me to be thankful for what I have rather than complain about what I don’t have. Poetry has always been an outlet for me to use for any emotional low I’m going through. I’m happy to report that I haven’t written any poems like this one lately…
I see the teachers’ whispers transfer
Down an undefended operator’s line,
It’s the only vision that
Completes these lessons
Of cross-curricular tragedy.
Not a call from any cell
Tells me this disease
May linger
Like my ears ringing of
Faculty room groupthink.
My classroom walls
Are now narrowed to 4 bedposts,
And into this corner
All these words
Have painted me.
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