He walked into the class
Like always with just two sticks of chalk
I still remember that smile on his face
His ussual style
Of pointing in the air before he speaks
That day he had a different story
He had another lesson to teach us
In his eyes I could see love
I new something good was he about to speak
'I chose to be the bridge'
I had him softly saying it
Its now long but the voice still rings in my ears
''I chose to be the bridge, through me, you will get there''
Thats his legacy to us
Knowledge and love
His voice will sound forever
''I chose to be the bridge''
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem