In class, I taught hundreds of poetry lessons,
Words flowed like rivers, without any hesitations.
Metaphors, similes, and rhyming schemes,
Were the tools of the trade, or so it seems.
From Shakespeare to Frost, I covered them all,
And watched my students’ creativity crawl.
They wrote about love, nature, and life,
And found their own voice amidst the strife.
I encouraged them to express their emotions,
Through stanzas, verses, and rhythmic motions.
For poetry is a language that speaks to the soul,
And in my class, they learned to make it whole.