Beneath The Mask: A Teacher's Hidden Love Poem by Nurhuda Anji

A tyrant's mask, a stoic's smile,
She wields her word, a steely file.
Demands they heed, obedience sought,
Her sources fear, in battles fought.

Curses fly, frustration's sting,
Yet on her lips, a song will sing.
Unfazed they think, a heart of stone,
But shadows lurk where none have known.

They call her witch, a fearsome name,
A fortress built, to hide the flame.
For deep within, a teacher's heart,
Feels every pang, each tearing part.

They're family, these souls so young,
Their struggles hers, on weary tongue.
For family's sake, the pressure burns,
A sculptor's flame, where weakness turns.

Misunderstood, her pressure's art,
To fuel the mind, ignite the start
Of journeys grand, where knowledge gleams,
A gift unseen, in spite of screams.

They judge her strength, by outward show,
But tears may fall, unseen they flow.
For love disguised, in strict command,
Aching to see them understand.

Not broken, but refined and strong,
A testament to where they belong.
And when they rise, with wings unfurled,
They'll thank the fire that shaped their world.