All This Poetry is Messing Up My Mascara!

My students are threatening to re-name our poetry class “Crying Class.”

Last week we graduated from subtle swiping of tears to all out sobbing. The girls make a big show afterward of complaining about how they hate to cry, especially in public.

I, of course, launch into a lecture about how cryng is good and strong and how we have to learn to love our tears.

“Yeah, yeah,” one girl complains. “But the real problem is it’s messing up my mascara.”

That, my dear, is the price we poets pay.

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4 thoughts on “All This Poetry is Messing Up My Mascara!

  1. Today I cried at my guitar lesson when I learned how to play the song “Do a deer” with notes. I felt like a child, at this stage in life plucking the notes for “do,re,mi” and trying to get it right. The tears were dripping onto my guitar. It was embarrassing enough to be crying in my lesson, after all I am an adult and this is Japan. I can sympathize with your students. Luckily I wasn’t wearing mascara!

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