Kianna Meadows

My Poem To My Students

In skies of grey, where shadows creep, A young heart struggles, buried deep. The world outside, a misty haze, Each morning dawns in troubled days.

Then steps a teacher, gentle, bright, A quiet beacon, softest light. No booming lesson, stark and cold, But stories whispered, brave and bold.

They see the flicker, damp and low, The spark within that longs to grow. With steady hand, a patient guide, They pull the heavy clouds aside.

A sunny smile, a listening ear, Dispelling doubt, dissolving fear. A simple truth, a gentle phrase, Transforms the path through winding maze.

For in that room, where warmth takes hold, A fragile future starts to unfold. A ray of sun, through tempest's strife, The teacher shines, a hope for life.

Love, 

Ms. Meadows