When I was young my teachers were the old. <br />I gave up fire for form till I was cold. <br />I suffered like a metal being cast. <br />I went to school to age to learn the past. <br /> <br />Now when I am old my teachers are the young. <br />What can't be molded must be cracked and sprung. <br />I strain at lessons fit to start a suture. <br />I got to school to youth to learn the future.<br /><br />Robert Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-fifty-said-2/
