the way you sat in those very chairs
the places you sat in the same old manner
to listen to many yarns retold
Of stories down to the neo-modern
all unraveled in three long years
It must have felt so nonsensical
you struggled hard to understand
But behind it all it simply meant
just open up to the self within
to see things as they really are
and reach for heights unimagined
To seek the truth in all aspects
Literature is life, nothing more or less
undergrad life- it only tapped
what was inside you all way through
But how I grieve to see the card
that wishes me on Teacher’s Day
sent with thoughts you never said
as you say while you were here
It made me think how I have failed
Sadly your ‘thank you’ I can’t take
but I’ll keep the card at eye’s length
to strive to do better for many other.
