I watched him yesterday, a man adept,
Who moved toward chaos where a failure slept.
He took the reins, efficient, keen, and cool,
And quickly played the master in the school
Of consequence. His posture claimed the right
To pull the tangled problem into light.
He charted maps and issued strict commands,
The perfect architect with working hands.
The situation yielded to his force,
He drove the outcome down the proper course;
He managed all that needed to be found,
And claimed the victory on conquered ground.
Yet as he built the clarity he sought,
A different lesson cruelly was taught:
He handed aid, but with a subtle sneer,
And made the clarity a thing of fear.
He paid for order with a whispered slight,
Dismantling dignity to prove his might.
The student gained the knowledge, hard and brief,
But left the presence burdened by his grief.
The gift of help became a caustic trade,
Where stature was exchanged for steps he made.
And here the hollow irony resides,
The bitter question that my thinking guides:
How can a person claim the right to school,
To lecture others on the broken rule,
When charity and grace they cannot lend,
And basic courtesy they fail to spend?
It amazes me how easily they stand,
A polished teacher in a guiding hand,
Instructing others where the faults reside,
While self-respect and kindness are denied.
They offer wisdom, sharp and well-defined,
Yet left the proper manners far behind.
The very foundation they profess to build
Is fractured by the rudeness they have willed.
For knowledge, without conduct by its side,
Is merely arrogance where wisdom died.