Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Poem: A disciple's tribute

Hello Reader,

This poem is dedicated to all the teachers of my life.

I was like clay,
unshaped and useless.
On my first birthday,
I cursed the lord,
"Why no God gifts for me, Oh! God."
and He replied,
"Parents are your first teachers
and teachers are your second parents".
What else do you want?

And soon I realized what he meant
when in shaping me,
all their time my teachers spent.
In making a better Me
and a world free of rust,
teachers inhaled less of oxygen
and more of chalk dust.

Even if I tried to fail
they kissed my palms
but with a wooden scale.
And loaded me with lots of love
in form of assignments and surprise test
but only to bring out my very best.
Also in the most boring lectures
I learnt so many lessons
not the subject but a lot about patience.

From ABCD the alphabets
to ABCD the parameters
they taught me all.
They held my hand throughout
and never let me fall.

I was like clay
unshaped and useless
and they molded me into a creature
For your hard work and time
Thank you, Teacher.