Home » Poems » Reason A. Poteet » When I Am Old

When I Am Old

When I was six, mom picked flowers for my teacher; I added some magic yellow posies. Teacher threw my yellow flowers away. When I am old and become a teacher, I will be more sensitive of different points of view. perception's hinge opens up new fields to view tears, smiles, joy, fear

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Caren Krutsinger

Date: 7/28/2018 4:36:00 AM

I never got over a second grade teacher's response when I asked her for a simple thing, and she said she did not have time and that was over fifty years ago. Teachers, read this and realize, please!

Caren Krutsinger
Date: 7/29/2018 6:17:00 AM

One day when a kindergartener was all excited because she had chosen the perfect oak leaf for me on the way to school, to insure her excitement and giddiness all day, I pinned it to my shirt and wore it until she left on the bus. She was like a giant puppy with happiness over it, as was I.

Reason A. Poteet
Date: 7/28/2018 9:35:00 PM

Appreciate your empathy and am sorry that your teacher was so rude. Moments count in the development of a child. thanks for commenting, Caren.

Susan Ashley

Date: 7/27/2018 10:08:00 PM

Oh, I feel your heartbreak, Reason. Your poignant poem reaches deeply into my heart. I love your beautifully sad write and your lovely message. Warmest wishes.. ~Susan

Reason A. Poteet
Date: 7/28/2018 9:36:00 PM

Thank you, Susan. I welcome your comment as always. Glad for the read and reply.