Irish Sense of Beauty

Meeting people left and right

Holding on to who I am so tight


I walk into her class

“She’s so mean. She’s so cruel”

“Children’s tears, that’s her fuel”

I ignored what they would say

And by doing so it paid


I walked into her class

Someone so “strange”

But I didn’t know this would lead me to a change


The way she dressed

The way she spoke

The way she moved

The way she looked


Dressed in slacks

Never skirts

Never dresses

Around the room, there were always messes


She spoke loud

With a voice quite deep

And if not careful,

Sounded harsh- would make students weep


She walked swiftly

As if to wear a cape

As if from her fears,

She wanted to escape


Rarely a smile would appear on her face

What was peculiar was that she had expensive taste

For she seemed to not be about style

But about substance

And intellect


But conversing with her more

Sympathy grew as

I began to detect


Interesting observations that may lead one to suspect

That sometime in her life, her happiness was bereaved


Without truly knowing her…

They hated her

They said she was mean

They said she looked like Buzz Light-year

They said she was lesbian


And me?

What can I say?

I’d have to see her every single day!


At first, I wasn’t sure what to feel

I never liked spite and wanted to help others heal


But sometimes it was clear to see

That, although she said I was her favorite,

She chose other students over me

She was shifting all the time

Like the economic graphs she teaches us

And if she ever, somehow reads this rhyme,

She’ll know who she is


But I want you and her (if she reads this) to continue with what I have to say for this is not the end…


I have never met anyone like her

She wasn’t like the other female teachers I had before

Who wore jewelry and smiles and grace and more

She was distant and guarded

And at times, I tried to break her wall


I thought she was beautiful with her Irish or Scottish or Canadian sense of beauty

But from her throne, she did fall

I often wondered how she was when she was young

Because she seemed like a woman who robbed herself of beauty


I told her several times that I really loved her smile

And I realized I enjoyed getting to know her all the while


And in accordance to character, she was passive about my genuine compliments


I’m not sure when it started

Maybe when I would voluntariy speak to her after school 

Or attend tutoring

But through time I began to see

That it was not just her

It was also me


Who transcended the state

In which we would often be

Opening my heart to her and this new experience

And her doing the same

This is where the change came


Time is slowly making a way

Where now that I see her each day,

Initial unease

Is transforming into a breeze

Differences are leading to discovery


Discovery of another unlike me

And as the wings of time fly

I must confess that I

Find more similarities each time we interact


I sense a friendship will grow and blossom


Like flowers in the time of spring

I find renewal for what each day brings

Such as this year with my dear teacher

Who has impacted me with the true experience of diversity

Better preparing me for my journey to a university


Such will benefit me  

For as I am meeting people left and right

Holding on to who I am so tight

There’s no doubt I’ll come across someone like her again


This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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