Oh! snatched away in beauty’s bloom,
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:

And oft by yon blue gushing stream
Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
And feed deep thought with many a dream,
And lingering pause and lightly tread;
Fond wretch! as if her step disturbed the dead!

Away! ye know that tears are vain,
That death nor heeds nor hears distress:
Will this unteach us to complain?
Or make one mourner weep the less?
And thou—who tell’st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

I want to write poetry but all I can do is relive old memories and hope for unhopeful moments. How can I unteach the words you've taught me or unfeel the touch of your hands or unsee the flecks of light in your eyes or undo everything that once was between us? If I can learn how to make this happen maybe I could find a new muse.

We are two hearts
They beat individually
So lets see if we can sync them
Rewire and unteach them
Because that  potential brought us together
Back then there was no pressure for forever.

No matter how hard you try, it is impossible to teach creativity.
Society tells all of us to be creative and original,
That we all shouldn't be afraid of expressing ourselves.
This all holds true,
For we should be proud of who we are.
However,
How is originality possible when we are taught to conform?
We're taught from day one to only use certain colors.
To read, write, and think a certain way.
If we don't adhere to this "certain way,"
Then we are seen as wrong.
Unintelligent.
We're all expected to be this one, cookie cutter student.
A one size fits all type of person.
What happened to our originality instilled deep down within us?
There is no wrong way to express YOURself.
The education system is the great inhibitor to our creativity.
Creativity may be impossible to teach, but it sure is possible to unteach.

Sometimes I feel like
The universe is conspiring
To make me suffer

Sometimes I feel like
You came to teach me a lesson
But seems I'm a slow learner

Sometimes I feel like
You came to unteach me selfishness
That class is proving to be a hard one

Sometimes I feel like
You were meant to teach me patience
Which is not going so well

Sometimes I feel like
You were supposed to teach me pain
That actually is making real progress

Sometimes I feel like
You came to teach me self control
Happening rather slowly though

Sometimes I feel like
I am supposed to be drawing my strength from you
Maybe that'll happen someday

Sometimes I feel like
I'm supposed to be gaining
But all I feel is loss

Maybe my pain is my gain
And my strength is my weakness
But how do I really feel?

Our greasy teacher had feet that were warty & root-rotted, 'cause he
refused to unteach us stupid **** that we could never be re-*taughted