That fuzzy haired teacher stood before us. <br />His fist elegantly pressed into his side. <br />Asking big questions, he paused. <br />Pressing his fingers to his forehead, <br />Finally he addressed us; <br />Talk to somebody, he said, <br />Ask them what happiness is, he said. <br />Tap - tap - tap my nails on the desktop. <br />Awkwardly fast, I turned, avoiding eye contact to my right, <br />Blurted - so what's happiness! <br />Smiling almost too big. <br />He slouched over himself, his foot against the desk, <br />Leaning back like a dare devil. <br />Casually tossing his head back and his open palm up in the air. <br />'I have no f*cking idea', he could have been sighing. <br />Yeah, me either. <br />Making his way back to the front of the room, <br />The professor who dresses like part of a stage crew, <br />He said, ask them where happiness comes from. <br />So again, a nervous tick type turn. <br />'Well, where do you think it comes from? ' <br />He sat forward, looked right at me, <br />He smiled, 'I don't know man. <br />The rain.'<br /><br />Emily Beck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-rained-today-3/
