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Poems On / About TEACHER  5/22/2015 3:37:11 PM
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Deathly Talking

As the teacher is ready
To come into class and teach
The students are in the washers
Shining their hair and teeth with bleach
The teacher is on his way
And students prepare to yell and jump
All waiting the new miserable teacher
They are ready to run him down and end him with a stomp
And as the poor teacher walks into the room
The criminal children are ready to loom
They prepare to throw stones and catapult books on their way
And as the teacher walks inside
They all look along and stray
Not expecting a fight
It’s just another teacher gone
Learning is their worst enemy
It has always been all along
The teacher marches in
Ready for the first day on the job
Not expecting a world war 3
And not expecting a worldwide mob
The teacher gets in
Welcomed with flying books and rocks
People kept shouting though the teacher urged them to stop
All speaking at once the teacher’s mind would just pop
The teacher gets ready
Reaching into his stock
Paper, books, and rocks cover the entire floor
Then the teacher explodes
Releasing an enormous roar
Revealing his weapons and death devices
The teacher takes out a pistol and shoots them like lices
Then a rifle is found and fires at sight
Then shotguns are shown shooting anyone with all their might
The rest are held hostage
Face to face with a 50-cal
Threatening every person
From innocent, to gangster, to gangster’s pal
All look frightened
And look desert dry
Not knowing if it’s time to apologize or cry
One stands up thinking to show he is brave
With an RPG
The ruthless teacher sends him to his grave
Now that the teacher is done
He looks away
Says it was either his terms or the mafia way
And now let that be a lesson for each of you to learn
Not one
Not one soul, Should speak out of turn!
Adam EA

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My Old School

A school is not any building, but It's a pretty entity that elevates Us up in life anytime... We don't go to school just to sit In there, but We learn from what our teachers give Us anytime... I did love my old school that enriched Me with all kinds of knowledge... I loved all my teachers who taught me How to be or not to be... I loved my classmates who accompanied Me through those years of learning... I loved my whole books and my whole Notebooks that I lined in them all my Pretty ideas and all my wonderful thoughts... My old school contained everything that Helped me to be a pretty figure among My whole friends and my whole companions... I do keep my old school's memories in My heart and in my mind for ever and ever... ______________________________________________________________________

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As A Child

My child hood as I grew up was so vary hard, the youngest age that I can remember as a child was nine years old, in I can only remember that because its the year that my mother died, life was vary unfair as a child, as I got a little older my school had a mother daughters day fair, what was I to say to my teacher at eleven years old, so I said nothing to anyone in did not show, in I came to school the next day just to be teased by my class mates, I could only cry all day long as the teacher did or said nothing, I wanted to go home, but she would not let me, she said that kids will be kids to me, but its not the same when you are a kid your self, In I still think that she didnt understand, I knew about sticks-n-stones but who cares about that at eleven years old, all I knew was that it hurt to be teased that you do not have a mother. It brings tears to my eyes everyday to no that I still have nightmares about that day.
Sanita, Lawon Lay

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My College

I do remember every pretty face Over there, I do remember my colleagues' pretty Smiles and laughs, I do remember the first day I was over there, I do remember my whole teachers One by one, I do remember my whole books Over there, I do keep in my mind Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, Under The Greenwood Tree's Thomas Hardy,....,.... I do remember that pretty building Which contained my college, I do remember the pretty days and The pretty walks with Ahmad Rami, Mohammad Yousef, Abu Ibrahim,...., And George,..., I do keep in my mind all these pretty Memories of being a freshman at that time, I am today looking for all that is good To be again with the pretty memories of My pretty college and all that it contained, Days took me away looking for my pretty memories And for days are still in my brain, I never forget those days we spent together With all my pretty colleagues at that time, I love my college, I love my colleagues, I love my whole teachers, I love all my books, I love all my pretty memories over there, I love the pretty sea that was a pretty friend All of us and I love everyone and everything over there.

Read more poems from MOHAMMAD SKATI >>>
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Poems On / About TEACHER