I had a math teacher 

When I was in eighth grade

We' d hang out at his house

And play video games


I thought it was a little strange

I thought he was weird

But, he let us smoke weed

And he'd buy us beer


Well, the years go by

And I forget all about it

Then I start hearing stories

About how he was outed


I knew he was funny

I never fell for his ploys

Apparently I was smarter

Than some other boys


I'll get to the point

Cause, I could go on and on

But, if your teacher's looking at your ass

You know there's something wrong






This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741