PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Walked into class,

The teacher is gone.

I went in there to find Mrs. Dass,

A teacher whom I’m very found.

Sitdown first middle row first chair,

To gaze upon the teachers face.

A love I think we both share,

For her I would eat paste.

She called my name and I said “Present”,

She called others and I watched her mouth.

I walked up to her and I was hesitate,

As I saw her purple blouse.

I gathered up my power and hid my stout,

Walked up and said to her.

“would you like to go out?’

She said “I can’t date a 1st grader”