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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1467947
A tribute to my English Literature teacher in 1965
Doctor Strait in his bow tie wasn't quite done
Leaped into the room armed with his gun
Screamed sit down kids, we're gonna have fun
Put the shiny black pistol right next to my ear
Assured me quietly I had nothing to fear

Doc pulled the trigger of the gun he held to my head
All my preconceived ideas were pretty much dead
The forty caliber words that shot from his pistol
Changed all of my things that were previously crystal

The metaphors and images that came into play
Changed the very fiber of my young life that day
Dylan was singing, his tone awful to my ears
The words that he spate brought forth my tears

Like a Stone Rolling I knew what he meant
His words were like magic from a personal bent
I looked at the doctor with a smile on my face
I knew that the Doctor had shot the right place

My mind was expanded in his class that morning
He fired it so right, it came without warning
My life was changed by a man in a bow tie
And a Minnesota punk that I could not deny

The beauty of Doc was his Clark Kent disguise
The ignorance of me he was able to surmise
When he loaded his gun and he pulled the trigger
The bullet when fired would make my world bigger

Who would have thought that a man so square
Would have the insight to make me aware
That my English lit class had far more to say
Than" Double, double toil and trouble" that day

Thanks Doc.



© Copyright 2008 C.E. Thieroff (babalu726 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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