I move like clockwork, Unseen, unheard —
A silent rhythm That keeps this home alive.
I wake with the sun, Not for myself,
But for the laundry, The breakfast,
The thousand tiny things That no one sees —
But would surely notice If they were left undone.
And when at last The house grows quiet,
I sit alone And feel the weight
Of everyone’s laughter That I was too busy to join.
The bottle of hair oil waits, The anti-wrinkle
cream stays sealed,
As if my face, my hair, Could wait another day
While I keep the world turning For everyone else.
And sometimes I wonder — If I stepped away,
Would the music stop? Or would another song
Take my place, While the world dances on
Unmoved, unbroken?
Yet, I slog , Because somewhere inside
I feel This love of mine Holds more
weight
Than any clock, Any market, Any perfectly laid table.
And maybe, just maybe, One day they will see me when I cant be seen
Not just the things I did But my love that kept Their world together.
