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Rated: E · Poetry · Children's · #1679132
what makes being a teacher very difficult, is the constant renewal of your past ...


Confession…



Wish I could go back in time

To do all that mischief again,

To think that I did these years ago,

Makes me feel life’s too old and times are up.

Oh! How I hate it!

You are the air but I’m stone,

Though I want to join you,

My conscience does it forbid.



Isn’t it pathetic that I cannot enjoy

Though in the company of joy, of wealth…

You find me “cool”, you find me friendly,

That’s when I’m one of you, I see me in you,

You find me “mean” and unusually “strict,

When duty reminds - I have a role to play!



It’s not a mood shift, or is it really?

‘tis not easy to define- like I say sometimes, in Lit

That tells you how complicated later life is,

When you’re torn between the past and the present



I meet long lost friends

We reminisce year 9, 10 and even 8.

Treasures of life, memories that shine,

That tell you – a lost moment is lost, lost forever -

“I shouldn’t have been such a nerd!”

I relive my past in you, gather treasures, lose no moment

I make up for the past,

You may hate me, you may like me,

But little do you know that

I’m torn

Between my past

and your present …



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