While doing the IB programme, I had to write a few literary works for my English class. As the deadline for one of the papers was upon me I got rather ill, so I decided to use my paper to explain my absence the next day at school. Our teacher Stephanie, who happened to be Scottish, found it quite amusing.
A poem for my Scottish teacher
Pedro Miguel Sosa – June 2010
As my head was pumping,
and my fever was soaring,
my very Scottish teacher asked me for a story.
I sat down to write,
turned on a light,
and wonder into the screen.
My head filled with questions,
as to this work's nature,
How long? with rhymes?
Or can it be crazy one?
As I wrote my emails,
all one of a time,
I started to get replies:
“Just write the blessed poem”
“I'm going to sleep”
“I ain't got all the time”
I hurried my writing,
my fingers were typing,
and everything in my eyesight blurred.
I thought I'd reach a wonderful place,
where only great poets go.
I started to stroll with colorful horses,
and jumped in a pond with tints of red roses.
I wonder “Oh! God!”,
“I must be in Nirvana”,
“This is surely the best of all-times!”.
But as I regained conscience,
I was sad to discover,
I hadn't reach no wonderful place.
I was actually laying on a stone cold floor,
for my fever had gotten to high!
I was actually scared, but very relieved,
for I don't know how (and really don't care),
the poem was finally written on screen.
Now I can send it to my Scottish teacher,
and assure her that nothing has happened,
don't worry, I'm fine,
I've a headache and fever,
I'm not going tomorrow to class.