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“read please.”

“The swifts.”
“No! with ease!
Feel the beat
Of fluttering birds
Twittering on the tongue!”

“The swifts”

The boy looks up,
Anxiously waiting if I will…
*Cough*
“The swifts”

He stutters through
the rest of the page.
In his haste,
forgetting half a stanza.
*Sigh*

“Please picture
for your second try,
a tiny bird…
Buried in the bushes.
WAITING…
Waiting for the wind
To LIFT him up,
spreading his wings!...”

*BANG*

My hand hammers
against the metal desk.
Ending my own
Frantic flying
In a pitiful…
clank.
©2009-2010 ~DamnThatKarma
:icondamnthatkarma:

Author's Comments

Written for the [link] challenge: Writing a poem from the perspective of a teacher.

This poem is based on one of my English teachers, trying desperately to get us interested.
I remember how he made us read poetry, and ended up finishing the piece himself, whilst knocking over the furniture, trying to portray the imagery.

Well we found if very funny of course, but I can imagine that he sometimes had to be on his last nerve...

Anyway, this is a bit of a tribute to him. I've tried to portray the situation (as I imagine he saw it) in a dialogue like manner, so it'd be more like the actual class.

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:iconpoetryplease:
This was selected as the featured poem for =PoetryPlease's Challenge #41! :D Congrats! Well done!

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August 14, 2009
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