Teacher, Teacher
She said, "Write a poem, Not too short, not too long.That dictates a theme to A reader Like: "how to get along" Well, I said, "Should I write about times,of hardships,and squish all of realityinto these lines?" But no, she said,"Melodious undertoneTo pretend life's beautifulEven when it's notis the point of a poem." Teacher, teacher Wanted me to lift the readerOut of the muckTo see the goodTo see that they're in luck They haven't died- Yet And they can bear it-But, No, she did not want me To write the truthShe wanted meTo writeWhat she wanted to see In a flowing, gentle as a river,Soft as a floating feather,Lovely as a blue-eyed baby-Born in May-Smooth as a pebble formed From a rock in the bay She wanted the cliches love, happiness, joy, and home In a Poem