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He was there, at his teacher's desks...
Standing still, while taking his marker to write on the whiteboards...
He was standing in front of all of us ,
In front of everyone in the class,
He was about to begin his speeches...

He was speech about the history of our country,
Full of sound and fury,
Sometimes he sounded like racist,
Repelling others while keeping us all together,
But i know his intention ,
To remind of us the true history of our own land,
The land that we born and we have lived for years and centuries,
Remains in our memories...

He was speech about our future,
Of how he imagined it to be ,
Of a most shining and a pure bright future,
A country of harmony,economy and most greatest of all ,
He wants us, the new generation ,
To plan and makes our country the land we can live in peace & harmony....

This my teacher,
Teaching us even in great depression ,
With a hope we will become a leader,
In a future ,
Which will become us ,
To think and plan it ,
To become a grand cities....

That is my history teacher ,
Who teaches us of our history ,
Now and always we remember ,
His will and patience to teachs us ,
Of our victorious and bitter past ,
of our country......

He was there again,
Walking steadily out of our class,
Marking the end of his class ,
And the beginning of Math class......

"a poem for our history teacher..."