Sh*t I Can't Say to My Teacher

 

I see you

You get up on that podium

Looking calm as water

Waving your arms around

Saving the hopeless for when

The orchestra can’t see

 

I hear you

You get up on that pulpit

Giving advice like absolution

Singing our praises

Preaching in music

But your flock doesn’t understand

 

I feel you

You get up on that slab

Rehearsing limbs together

Conducting a misshapen body

Wishing for Frankensteinian lightning

To bring it to life

 

I follow you

You get up on that battlefield

Drawing your baton

Cutting the air with deft strokes

Holding your army back

From rushing off a cliff

 

I respect you

You get up on that slope

Rolling your boulder

Singing like Sisyphus

Smiling blandly

When the rock tumbles down

 

I fear you

You get up on that future

Speaking with my voice

Moving with my arms

Seeing with my eyes

What I will become

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