She steps inside, the room goes still,
Everyone bends to her iron will.
Her eyes, piercing like shards of ice,
Her tone, just as precise.
Our backs as straight as a wooden board,
While her words cut like a sharpened sword.
Her gaze, like thunderclouds above,
Leaves no trace of warmth or love.
And we who bore such heavy loads
Dream of paths we’ve yet to strode
Pushing through night and day,
Driven by pressures we can’t betray.
One late evening, some lights still on
I lingered there, though most had gone.
There in the quiet, she sighed,
Unguarded
Her features soft
Her eyes, distant and aloft
Out aloud she spoke of, why she’s rather cold
Reasoning the price of lessons left untold.
Knowing the fight we had to bear
The sleepless nights, the weight of care.
Behind her mask, a simple truth—
She’d sacrificed, just as we, in her youth.
In every question we dared to ask
She saw herself doing a task
For dreams are demanding, like life itself,
Requiring that we push beyond fear and doubt.
Now, watching her lead the class
I see beyond the rigid mask.
A force, fierce, but born out of care,
A mentor that wants to share.
Her icy walls and her measured tone,
Born from battles fought alone.
For every sharp command and glance,
She’s offering us a fighting chance.
So here’s to teachers strong like her
Beneath their veils,resolves like steel
Despite every fall they still stand stall,
Guiding us, through it all.
Through every lesson, every word,
Their silent dedication is heard.
They build the future, brick by brick,
Their impact deep and ever quick
To those who’ve paved the way,
Who will shape tomorrow, day by day.
Their quiet strength, their guiding hand,
Forged leaders who will stand.
In every heart they’ve touched with grace,
They’ve left a mark, a lasting trace.
So now we bow in deep respect,
To those whose lives their work reflects.
May we carry what they’ve shown,
The seeds of wisdom they have sown.
And in our hearts, forevermore,
We honor them for what they’ve born.
