PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The lessons you tought us, demanded perfection.

To carry a voice, that only an angel could have.

The lessons you tought us, were somtimes boring.

Taking notes mindlessly, 'til the end of class.



Each day down the hall, the bell rang out.

We'd wander there mindlessly, tired, devout.

But always eager to see you always.

During recess, at the end of the day.



There you stood, bouncing, laughing,

so serious, but so silly, that we'd all have to laugh.

The songs began, you'd stop and correct us,

it's so funny how Jason made you so mad.



You'd tell us stories unrelated to music,

talk about Liam, as if he were there.

You'd order a pizza, invite us to your home,

and tell us never to wear white socks with black.



Two years ended, and you kept on going.

Bigger and better the music program became.

I never took the time to see how you were doing..

but I always wondered...you know that right?



The phone call came,

only last year.

I remember it so vividly...

I swore it wasn't true.

It couldn't be true,

I just saw you two weeks prior.

There's no way something could happen to you.



why?

Why?

WHY?

Where is the justice?

There is no justice,

no God,

Only science.

You were 28 years old,

and you should be here.



The greastest lesson you ever tought us,

was never a music note, written on a page.

Only to never take for granted, what we think will last forever.

To never ever let time slip away.



But you'll never slip away again.

You know it took me a year to write this poem.

Because that's what you tought us, the song of perfection.

You'll never be forgotten again.