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The teacher
Working on borrowed time
Sleep a passing memory
Creation a chain to be forged
Crunching out the keys of the board
Alone and tiresome
Confused but implored
We seek the strength to know more
The delivery is an finite art
Of complication requiring a simplified start
Where the idiot and the fool do play its part
In the transfer of ideas where you suddenly feel smart
Light bulbs and blank stares
A culmination of time passing
As the droning tone becomes a morgue
Or salvation
Judgment is powerful
Pressure is clear
You stand always naked
Before all of you peers
The I don't knows
The I need helps
Become a stoic road block
In your mental health
Success is measured
Not by your own stick
But a governing power
Unwilling to share tricks
You live, you breathe, you die
With all that you know
Sometimes not enough time
To put on a show
Copyright ©
Lifes' Tapestry
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