Poem about my teacher

I guess he'd prefer being called Professor, or doctor even

I make sure my students listen
Even if they don’t understand
--  they almost never do

‘I love you because you’re capable of love’
she said to me
  - I believe
 do not tell anyone I said that. 
I’d hate to be mis-represented
I'm busy Busy Busy I have to work
Okay I can spare an hour for you, my student
It’s true that those things are what matters
It’s true that I can change your life
You just need to listen to me please
Life is a zigzag   path

If they paid me any less i’d be 
paying to teach, 
So please believe that I do this because I love it. 
Trust me
When I go to Paris
or New York for that matter
They all ask for my signature 
 I don’t tell you that to brag
It’s just that you’re never loved in your hometown. 

Now get out of here, I’ve got work to do and if you stay any longer it’ll become trite. I’ve expelled all my magic for the moment
and i’ve got to eat the lunch I packed
An apple, A banana
And a peanut butter sandwich
Each in their own saran wrap bags.