With a Stick

This is just a poem but it felt good to get down. I did my best to follow my syllabic pattern (hence the apostrophes). I'll work on iambics and/or other patterns next time I feel like writing poetry.

I can't teach the deaf with words and
I can't teach the blind with pictures.
Somehow, though, you are neither,
And I can't teach you anything
At all.

The chatter is always d'sruptive.
Since the first lesson in the caves
Elders told their young to shut it
The stupid fell and the smart, well,
Survived.

After generations, those who fell
Got back up. Standing tall like ev'ry
Other person. As though they belong
In the ranks of the geniuses and
Scholars.

"Hey! I have ideas, and opinions
that matter more than anything else!"
One cried, "Do tell," I say and
Silence fills the room yet again.
Moron.

So many people look at yard sticks
As a tool of maths, not discipline.
Yet what better way to learn than
With a stick. Learning the hard way is
still learning.