My Teacher

My reacher
Like a compass
Like a waze
Telling me the directions
The north, south, east, west
The roads, the bridges, the ways
But not the initial planning and the final decision
I remain puzzle and helpless
At the cross-roads
But at once
I found that
I carry my own legs
The initial and final decisions both are mine
The teacher only provides me with skills and knowledge 
For this life
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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