.
.
.
SECRET BLESSINGS
She always took the chipped plate
The smallest piece, the bruised fruit
She let others talk while sitting on the hard chair
Sipping on the dregs of whatever was being offered
It was not because she preferred a chipped plate
It was because she wanted others to have the best
Their fill of food, their say
She wanted them to sit comfortably
Looking out for their needs
No one noticed all these small things she did
The tiny self sacrifices
So no one ever thanked her
On the contrary they just expected her gifts as routine
Which was just exactly how she wanted it.
.
.
.
..
.


No comments:
Post a Comment