50 People - 6 Poem by Raj Dronamraju

6

My third grade teacher was named Mrs. Quesenberry
She had short black hair, tight features, was not very tall
She was angry and impatient, the kids had worn her out
She was angry and impatient, she was worn out before she ever got near a classroom

She showed a lot of film strips
The darkness in the classroom meant we didn't have to see her sour expression
And could also escape her voice, shrill, screeching, immediately belligerent

We were naughty children that required constant reprimanding
One day, Mrs. Quesenberry put her head down on the desk and began crying
After several minutes, she also began to hit her head on the desk in a kind of rhythm with her sobs

The next day, the deputy principal came into our class and chewed us out for an hour
We never saw Mrs. Quesenberry again
Later, we heard two pieces of information
1.) That she had been going through a difficult and painful divorce
2.) That she was killed in a car accident the summer after last teaching our class