Dissertation
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Apr 4, 2010
I wrote some verses just for fun. My teacher read them; I was glad. She told me where I had gone wrong, And I was sad.
I wrote more verses just for her; I hoped she'd take another look At what I'd done when I was home And I had put away my book.
"I haven't time to read your poems!" She snapped. "I'm busy, can't you see? I've other things I'd rather do Than read your poetry."
How mean my teacher was back then To say such hateful thing to me; When I was just a boy of ten And she treated me so cruelly.
"Who am I trying to fool?" I asked. "What am I trying to be? Be done, be done with literature! Only English boys write poetry."
But as I grew, advanced in school, My high school teacher said to me, "Your poems are cool, you're no one's fool; Son, keep writing that poetry!"
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