Introspection Poem by ANUSREE C V

I was never
a honied teacher.
I never allowed my students
to skip lessons or tasks.
I do not know
how many tender
buds of love
dried
at a single glance of mine.
My class rooms were upstairs
Each time I stepped on stairs
the rooms
were draped in silence.
Now
Students from a distant past
return to embrace me.
I feel satisfied
seeing their firm steps,
their bodies held erect.
They come to console me,
extends helping hands.
Some seek solace in me,
wipe their eyes,
vowing not to let
tears fill again.
I was
a rough
and tough teacher
with stern aims.
Today
I stand in persona
I was forced to wear-
gazing at the future
wondering
how my present students
will stand
in it's frame.