Email Poem

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Poem

To those who should have heard my plea—
I write not bitter, but silently.
In shadows where the messages fade,
I found myself in silence laid.

It started with a hopeful thread,
A truth that whispered, softly said,
To stir the waters, call a friend—
But stillness echoed to no end.

No ripples came, no words replied,
Just empty space where trust had died.
“You need not come,” the silence spoke,
A quiet cut, a broken cloak.

A classroom once alive with song,
Where voices small would all belong,
Was handed off without a sign—
No farewell note, no last line.

I vanished in the digital night,
Replaced by names that felt not right.
No hand to hold, no final face,
Just absence carved in empty space.

Is this the way to lead the way?
With shadows deep and words that stray?
You teach respect but do not show—
Where did your empathy go?

You sever ties without a thought,
Ignoring wounds your cuts have wrought.
Is power all you seek to claim,
Or listening with heart aflame?

I am a teacher, flesh and bone,
With dreams and fears, not made of stone.
I pay my dues, I stand my ground,
Though silence tries to keep me bound.

But silence wins not here, not now,
Nor fear, nor cold, nor hidden vow.
My voice will rise beyond your walls—
A light that shines when darkness falls.

My final lesson, softly told,
In halls of light, both bright and bold,
Where children learn and spirits soar—
That’s why I teach, forevermore.

Though health now calls me to retreat,
And closure hides in shadows sweet,
I hold within what none can take—
My truth, my heart, no one can break.

—And that will be my lasting flame,
A whispered name beyond the shame.

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