When I Die by Mark Angelo S. dela Peña

Teaching is the humblest profession but no one gets well off because of teaching. Teachers are not rich of material needs but they are rich in friends -- rich in love. They talk to different learners everyday, different learners every year. They are role models. They are second parents. They are guidance counselors. They are facilitators of learning. They are social relationship and social communication experts. They are teachers. 

Teaching is touching lives, they say. Yes, it is. Teachers affect eternity in unfathomable ways. Think of how many years have Aristotle, Plato and Socrates died. Think of how strong their impact is to us still.

These ideas are the things which made me compose a poem about the influence of teachers. What if teachers die? Will they still be remembered? Will their names remain in the hearts of their students? Will their teachings still be taught the way it was before?

The poem that I made is very simple. It goes like this:

When I die, don't go in front of my grave and cry;

I am not there, I'm not sleeping, I did not die

Don't mourn in the cemetery; I am not there, I did not die.

Remember I'm a teacher.

I live within the hearts and the minds of those whom I have scolded,

those who listened to my stories,

those who believed in all that I said

and those who stood up once more to face life

because I told them what living really is.

Don't cry over my grave;

I did not die -- I'm a teacher.