In the quiet corners of the class they stand,
Guiding lights with the gentlest hand.
Their whispers turn to wisdom shared,
Crafting dreams with hearts that cared.

Through every challenge, they remain,
Nurturing minds through joy and pain.
The seeds of knowledge they impart,
Bloom into futures, a work of art.

With patience woven into every word,
They lift each voice to be heard.
In their eyes, a world of hope,
A tapestry of dreams they help to scope.

Oh, the teachers, pillars strong,
In their presence, we belong.
Their legacy, a timeless song,
Guiding us where we belong.