She cooks, she cleans, she counsels, she teaches
without an appraisal or a promotion.
She picks up the lego and the crayons on the floor,
And pieces of a heart that’s been broken.
The degrees sit idle in a corner,
Gathering a layer of dust.
And her unused brain feels heavier,
What with a kilogram of rust.
As days come and pass by,
Nothing seems to change so much.
And every day she goes to bed tired,
Wondering just what to pack for lunch.
She says not that worth comes only with a nine to five,
a monthly cheque or a medal won!
It comes as you lie tired in pajamas on the couch
And a loved one pats and says “Well done!”
…. but that is not to happen..
No comments:
Post a Comment