It was for a midterm, I read a poem.

I practiced and executed with perfect diction.

But you had by far more wisdom

And when I sat and retired the fiction

You said I was to do it again.

I never did get a chance to recite those lines.

I was too shy and scared back then.

If you were still here I’d make sure it shines

And make you proud of my confidence

That you helped come to surface.

Thank you for your existence

In my life. I wish your sickness

Didn’t take over and I could thank you in person.

You guided me to better things, that I am certain.

For my midterm, I recited some words

But you knew it was not my best work, because you had looked inwards.