When I was young my teachers were the old.
I gave up fire for form till I was cold.
I suffered like a metal being cast.
I went to school to age to learn the past.
 
Now when I am old my teachers are the young.
What can’t be molded must be cracked and sprung.
I strain at lessons fit to start a suture.
I got to school to youth to learn the future.

  • 0
  • 1
  •  
  •  
Entrar para comentar...

Preferido o celebrado por...

Chactas
Email

Otras obras de Robert Frost...

Algunos poetas que siguen a Robert Frost...

David Castillo García Bobbster Lobster Christian Bautista Brianna McNeil Lina Vasquez Berklee Lerohl