Chalk dust clings to my fingers, a badge of hope, not of blame,
I battle for each mind alight, a flickering spark in a system's game.
Spouse, a fighter etched in fire, storms halls with righteous ire,
Demanding change, a rebel's song against the education pyre.
But power's halls, they reek of grime, a spiderweb of whispers deep,
Where shadows bend intentions true, and secrets in the darkness sleep.
They see in them a shattered glass, reflecting back their greed and sin,
And in me, a thread undone, a path for justice to slip in.
My plans, once vibrant with belief, now blur with fear's insistent hand,
Each child's bright smile a fragile bloom, a victory that won't withstand.
They weave a paper labyrinth, to smother every whispered truth,
Hoping to silence my small torch, to drown my efforts in the ooze.
Their threats like storms on distant hills, whispers of exile's biting air,
To sever ties, to break the bond, and leave their battle bare.
But loyalty's a tangled knot, a web that binds in shades of gray,
The love, the dreams, the fight, yet walk this poisoned, gilded way.
Can I be solace in the dark, a lighthouse when the waves run high?
While chained to this corroded ship, where hope itself begins to die?
I close my eyes, inhale the dust, its scent a cleansing, whispered vow,
To fight for every child's bright spark, however shadows twist and bow.
My pen, a shield of spoken truth, my voice, a whispered, rising plea,
For in this war for minds to soar, my soul will not be truly free.
So let them spin their webs of lies, and breathe their threats into the night,
I'll stand tall, a beacon still, for education's guiding light.
For in the conflict's tangled knot, a choice I must embrace anew,
To be love's shield, and justice's song, in this corrupted, noble blue.
© Dr. Padma Shree. R.P.
January 12,2024
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