Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2010
I looked forward to your class,
It made me happy when I walked through the door.
But it was like walking on shredded glass,
And I always came back for more.

You pushed my limits
When it came to my own form of art
You made me look into my heart, deep withing it.
As a whole I wanted this moment to be more than a part.

Sometimes all we did was read.
Being at my best was quite a feat
For you, I tried so hard to succeed
I only had everyone in the pod to beat.

Ogling something more than the books.
Persuasion was out of the question and moot.
But how can I help it when my teacher had such good looks.
With a perfect personality to boot.
623
   mykelann wise and Sabbie
Please log in to view and add comments on poems