Thursday, June 11, 2015

Just Another Day to Play



To be fair I was there without a care.
There to share and lay bare my love for the air.

It's cold I'm told, in the class rooms of old.
And the air smells rolled in mold.

Out here I see deer and can steer clear of my teacher's good cheer.
Out here, there is no fear that homework is near.

But I do miss my teacher, just a little bit.
She had grit, but could knit, and was nice when saying 'sit!'
I will miss her,
A bit.
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