Those. Schoolgirl days. Of telling tales. And biting nails. Are gone. But in my mind. I know. That they. Will still live. On and on. But how. Do you thank. Someone. Who has taken you. From crayons. To perfume. It isn't easy. But I'll try. If you wanted. The sky. I would write. Across the sky. In letters. That would soar. A thousand feet high. To sir. With love. The time has come. For closing books. And long. Last looks must end. And as I leave. I know. That I am leaving. My best friend. A friend who taught me. Right from wrong. And weak from strong. That's a lot to learn. What. What can I give you. In return. If you. Wanted the moon. I would try. To make a start. But I. Would rather you. Let me give. My heart. To sir. With love. If you. Wanted the world. I'd surround it. With a wall. I'd scrawl. These words. With letters. Ten feet tall. To sir. With love