age as a fruit
born of the same fruit but you were the teacher and I was the student me so eager and you so prudent I did well but not to make one to notice you taught with confidence and had a sparkle in your eye I'd go home and write about your teachings and the way you changed my mind to and fro I sat quiet for years while I soon learnt that the birds and the bees meant the yous and mes, but the you was still busy teaching me the math that mattered and the words you use and don't use..well, you used the words you don't use but I sat quiet admiring your sarcastic tongue inside those rosy cheeks and I'd watch from the corner of my eye and examine you as your face moved while you taught the tales of your youth with a sly grin and a firmness not to be mistaken for a false strength You weren't a teacher but a guide and after all the learning was our time, the opposite ways we would slide Your work became a lot harder, made you lean and dirty working with grinds My work became a lot starker, made me mean and flirty and working with lines Once in a birthday I saw you in the form of your voice and it was like the sweetest dream But some days you'd come in real life cold nosed and red cheeked and ready for tea to talk about my learnings and how I've peaked And on those days I'd remember sitting in class like it was yesterday when you'd come in late with a smile on your face, similar to the one you have now But you're older now and you grew and so did I, sometimes I wonder how But we stare and share the wonders of our world, and the blunders too and you tell me about last nights girl We're older now and silly and now I stare at you, really Knowing inside you have a heart that cares not shares, it's one that'll help but it won't ever say welp In my teacher I once knew I see someone now so strong and kind and to think we were cut from the same rind He wasn't my teacher, just a find, on my journey
