It was for a midterm, I read a poem.
I practiced and executed with perfect diction.
But you had by far more wisdom
And when I sat and retired the fiction
You said I was to do it again.
I never did get a chance to recite those lines.
I was too shy and scared back then.
If you were still here I’d make sure it shines
And make you proud of my confidence
That you helped come to surface.
Thank you for your existence
In my life. I wish your sickness
Didn’t take over and I could thank you in person.
You guided me to better things, that I am certain.
For my midterm, I recited some words
But you knew it was not my best work, because you had looked inwards.