When I was young my teachers were the old.
I gave up fire for form till I was cold.
I suffered like a metal being cast.
I went to school to age to learn the past.
Now when I am old my teachers are the young.
What can’t be molded must be cracked and sprung.
I strain at lessons fit to start a suture.
I go to school to youth to learn the future.
(Robert Frost)
More Poetry from Robert Frost:
Robert Frost Poems based on Topics: Youth, Education, Past, Teachers, Future- After Apple Picking (Robert Frost Poems)
- A Considerable Speck (Robert Frost Poems)
- In white: Frost's Early Version of Design (Robert Frost Poems)
- The Vanishing Red (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Generations of Men (Robert Frost Poem)
- The Grindstone (Robert Frost Poem)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Youth Poems, Past Poems, Education Poems, Future Poems, Teachers PoemsBased on Keywords: school, lessons, metal, sprung, suffered, molded, cracked, suture