The Wound Behind the Honor

A Tribute to My Heroic Teachers A blessed World Teachers' Day celebration to all my teachers from elementary, high school, all the way to my Psychology college days! My heart overflows with longing to see and embrace you all once again. Though some of you may have already passed on and are now in the presence of the Almighty, your teachings remain very much alive. To my teachers who continue to teach and bring enlightenment, a profound, heartfelt gratitude is offered by a heart that loves and honors you. And so, I wholeheartedly dedicate this poem to you: **** What is the true value of a teacher? To be a teacher is a noble calling, Yet it feels like building a home on desert sand. A profession that can feel like reaching for the moon, Like planting seeds in dry soil, starved of rain. Yet with constant watering, the sprout will eventually rise; With tireless nurturing, it will grow and flourish before our eyes. Some believe a teacher is just a teacher, A course easily taken, holding little worth. Others think it is simple and make it a jest, But wait without them, would this nation have engineers? In truth, every profession began in the hands of a teacher, Without them, who would have the patience to guide the youth and mold their humanity? In the current rush of our modern times, New technologies and digital pens have risen. Social media is what this generation obsesses over, Which is why in schools, teachers seem to lose their importance today. Sometimes, their voices are no longer listened to, And in the eyes of the administration, they are treated as mere tools, drained of value. Even in gatherings, seats for them vanish, Weary from standing, yet their principles refuse to surrender. A teacher is a second mother, a guide through the dark path, Yet why do many see them as mere servants who are overlooked?