I love to teach
as well as
to get taught.
Isn’t it so nice and funny
to be a master
and taunt a young innocent face
with whatever I learnt
in the fifty years
I did melt.
Isn’t it
even more beautiful
in a lotus pose to squat
like an obedient pupil
on cold rocky floor
before a ripened scholar
with a clean slate
and a piece of chalk in hands
they mirroring
my ignorance dark
and solidified white resolve
to learn, learn and learn more
till stops
sans a warning
my old clock.
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