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…
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4ULpLPo_obulixQbvYp3Jt82b3x7g9YoM83k4JYs3UuIbwBa_wonDlANmi_rRAlZyJk9_hEKrDRZevQv5oMdmPz6S0r5cvPGNDCkqOyuUnRsiqhA0dgIQvUvSSgtHkk0Hv-CwV6zYqEy/s280/MLS+5%253A3+-+Poem+from+5%253A3%253A06.jpg)
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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