The first warm breeze of spring pours in through my window
And I am transported back to first grade,
where I heard "comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb" for the first time
My yearly spring nostalgia as March arrives
(And every year I cannot decide
if I only want to return to my school days in memory
or if I want to go back...go back to that world and teach
Is it the nostalgia talking, or the future pulling?)
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Thoughts and Poems are the Same Thing
PoetryAn ever growing collection of poems (thoughts) about everyday life and the world around us.