This poem is dedicated to my 7th grade Language Arts teacher Mr.Muir. Who is by far the coolest Language Arts teacher I will ever have.
Thank you for teaching me that secrets can have their places on paper.
My journal is now old and tattered,
the pages falling out.
The binding ripped,
deformed from water drips.
And I still have it for reference. View table of contents...

Submitted: May 20, 2008    Reads: 32    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   

Someone's left the door open,

and everything's spilling out.

The memories,

the secrets,

the things I want to shout.

My mind is emptying,

onto this blank page.

Overwhelmed with thing of both size and age.

Someone's left the door open,

and now it will not shut.

Thank you to that person,

who helped me open it up.

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Comments:

Pratibha

Great one... we all should have such kinds of people in our lives....so true....

Posted: May 20, 2008

Author Comment:

Mr. Muir was my favorite teacher. It's still fun to wonder if he ever found out who wrote the poem.

Punishment

Teachers are parents.
Our second parents.^^

A great tribute itania.
Keep writing.^^

Posted: May 21, 2008

Author Comment:

Thanks Punishment. Yeah. I agree with the 'teachers are you second parents' thing. They just can't ground you. (But they have detentions to dish out!)

bubbly

hi! itania. mr muir is extremely lucky to've such a dedicated tribute. let this door remain open. lol. ;-)

Posted: May 30, 2008

Author Comment:

Yeah. I still don't know if he ever figured out that year, but I gave him a copy of the same poem with a little explination this year. I hope he liked it.

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