Give your love to all you meet,
What’s in your fate, you'll surely greet.
A mother serves both night and day,
Her dreams of rest just fade away.
She wakes up early, starts her chore,
And works for all, then works some more.
No time she keeps for her own need,
No hour that's hers, no moment freed.
They say, "She’s home, so life is sweet,"
"She rests all day, her job’s complete."
But no one gives her even a break,
Though all her tasks, she undertakes.
No one sees the pain she hides,
Who gave her all, with open strides.
If something small doesn’t go right,
She hears complaints both day and night.
None can feel her silent tears,
Or see her strength through all the years.
Who knows what fate her hands will hold,
As time moves on, and she grows old?
She wonders, thinking in the night,
“I gave them all, with all my might.”
Will she ever reap the seeds she’s sown,
Or live the dreams she called her own?
Still today, she stands alone—
With nothing she can call her own.
3.37pm 18 June 2025
No comments:
Post a Comment