My Old Teacher

My Old Teacher

I remember my old teacher, haven’t seen her in years.
I wish there was a way to reach her, she cares,
How her students turned out; what they have become.
I doubt it if she remembers me. I was sort of dumb.

I didn’t become the doctor I bragged I would.
Attending church, paying taxes, I do what I should.
Married with children, I’m active in my community.
Bad behavior in class, she should grant me immunity.

I remember my old teacher. She was rare.
Perhaps, if she sees this poem published somewhere
She’ll correct my grammar, as any teacher would.
I wish I could tell her that I turned out good.

I enrolled my child in my old school; we moved back last year.
You’ll never guess who is still teaching school there.
She scolded, “The acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Giving a smile and a wink, she remembered me.