My Teacher, My Waiter, My Waitress

My Teacher, My Waiter

I can still remember the desk I sat in pre K,
As my mother was leaving I begged her to stay.
The tears rolling down my eyes as I watched my teacher,
Walking over to me as my arms tried to reach her.

Held my hand and spoke softly to make me feel at ease,
Checked my shot record to make sure I spread no disease.
She placed a badge on my shirt to keep track of me,
Every school adult knew my name as they all could see.

My teacher changed me as I learned new things everyday,
Learned my ABC’s and words of respect along the way.
When I pushed someone I was sent to a corner for timeout.
When I raised my voice I learned my lesson not to shout.

Now I’ve grown and need to praise those special teachers,
They are special in so many ways with talented features.
So if one of you is reading this poem dedicated to educators,
Find a retired one and thank them as though this time you are their waiters.

Copy Rights Oscar Elizondo Feburary 2008

My Teacher, My Waiter, My Waitress

oscarelizondo

Harlingen, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

Remember your first day in school when the teacher was more of a waiter than your teacher. Of course as the year went by you found out she or he was the boss. In this poem, it takes you back to perhaps some of those feelings when you went to school for the very first time.

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.