Pushing me,
To the edge, 
Of my breaking point,
Like I am falling,
Off a cliff.

“Teaching,” she tells me,
“Is not only about academics,
It is about life, too.”

At first I think she is wrong,
And she sends me back to my desk,
Because she hates me,
But then I start to realize,
That she cares.

I see the first rays of sunlight,
That I had yet to look at before,
Peering out from behind the clouds,
And rain,
Tickling the tips of my fingers.

As I watch,
I notice the beauty among the sky,
That I can finally see,
for I am not hidden in the dirt anymore.

As I look up,
I realize that I have been lying to myself.

I feel the wind,
Tugging at me,
Asking for play.

I can look down now,
See the grass,
And the dirt,
Where I used to lie.

Because people,
Can grow and blossom.
And I have.

I am different now.
I am flying within the birds.

I am free.