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.

-Ashish