The Teacher
I used to think,
Pain was the great teacher
But after two years
Of trying to learn
Its lessons
Iam hoping my teacher
Will go away.
She bores me almost to death,
She is so repetitive.
The pain I meant
Is the pain of separation
The end of a love.
That lesson is never learned
And is never boring.
Only a kind of
Desolation
Like a crow cawing
In the depth of winter.
Memory is merciless.
Structure
19 lines · 2 stanzas