Professor Poetry

Professor Poetry

Always in a classroom

Surrounded by books, snot-nosed kids, and smartboards

Always in a classroom

Now I’m sitting in desks reading out of textbooks I can’t afford

In a pickle, I turned to the only entity that mattered

Art

But before I start

To explain

Let me say this was the medium, the vice for my pain

It taught me how to vent

How to express myself

How to vividly describe

And how to do things simply for the love and not the amount of cents

I hope that makes sense

If it doesn’t then oh well

Sitting in my desk until the ringing of the final bell

Still got a notebook and pen

Only difference is I enjoy this lecture

I’ve been here for six years in the same seat

And it appears I will be here for some time

Staying after to clean the board of dirt and grime