Futile

It is confirmed. All my students' heads are full - continuing to fill their minds with knowledge will only push previously learned material out their ears. It is a futile endeavor to teach them more. Summer must come soon!

Trying my hand...

So, as I've said, writing the poem for Izzie got me thinking - and writing. So here's another attempt. This one was inspired by a student. Some of you may remember that earlier in the year I had a student commit suicide. One of his close friends had really struggled with his death during the year and then over our Spring Break, another of their buddies committed suicide also. This boy is really struggling but has a great heart. He reminds me a lot of Jay and I've kept a watchful eye on him while he's mourned both his friends and tried to keep his head up this year. Let me know what you think but, be gentle, I'm just experimenting.

Almost Grown

Infectious laughter.

Boyish exuberance.

His mischievous grin

melts staunch resolve.

His is a rippling

façade of contentment.

His heart expands

to embrace friend and foe.

His attentions blossom

into appreciation for

both mother and lover.

His broadening shoulders

carry too much sorrow

for one so young.

His gallant swagger

falters in the

face of uncertainty.

His fun-loving spirit

sags under the weight of

new-found responsibility.

Will the boy refuse to grow

And slowly leak vitality?

Or

Will that vitality sustain

a man of character?