If only your students knew how much you do for them.

They don’t see the blood and sweat you pour into your lessons,

They only know they can’t understand.

Your students don’t know that you go home and grade

And write up tests

And take extra classes

And workshops

So you can be a better teacher.

And I’m so sorry.

I don’t know what to say.

Your students don’t see you cry and cry

For the kids you’ve lost and cannot find.

They don’t know the only reason you can’t reach them

Is because they’ve run away.

Your students think you don’t care.

They think you give them work so you can watch them fail.

They think you’re a soulless, heartless shell

Filled with standardized nothingness.

If only they could see it isn’t true.  

If only they knew that you’ve dedicated your life to

Guiding them

And helping them

And fighting for them

And reaching out to them

To replace ignorance with light.

If only.

If only they knew that you’re flesh and hot blood

Just like they are.

If only they knew that you laugh

And love

And care more than they can possibly perceive.

I can’t this aloud to you,

Because I don’t know how to say it.

If only you knew how much I want to 

Grab your hand and say

Thank you.