In halls where wisdom softly swells,  
The teachers toil through endless bells.  
Their voices craft the future’s song,  
Yet bear a burden far too long.  

With steady hands; they mold the mind,  
But justice still; remains unkind.  
They ask for fair; yet walk alone,  
Their struggles silent; rarely shown.  

For every soul they guide and teach,  
Their own ambitions fade from reach.  
But in their hearts; a fire stays bright,  
Through darkest hours; they guard the light.  

They stand as towers; tall and strong,  
Though wages small; and hours long.  
Their dreams may bend; their backs may break....
Yet still, they give for others' sake.  

The chalk-stained hands; the tired eyes,  
For others’ futures; they will rise.  
And though their needs are cast aside,  
They press ahead; with quiet pride.  

Oh lift the teachers; hear their plea—  
The ones who shape eternity.  
For every life they’ve helped to steer....
We owe them more than words can cheer.  

But hope will come; the day will turn,  
When teachers get the due they earn.  
For in their hands; tomorrow lies—  
A future bright beneath the skies.  

Let’s praise their work; their tireless fight,  
For in their care; the world finds light.  
Give them the honor long denied...
And walk with them; all side by side.