Task Unseen

A deed unknown, left unseen,
its worth diminished, as if routine,
A task completed out of sight,
never praised, yet done just right.

These quiet hands mend and weave,
they leave behind no thread to grieve.
Working hard to keep the world in place,
yet brushed aside, without a trace.

Roofs stand firm, and fires glow,
gardens bloom where these hands sow.
The meals appear, the floors stay clean,
and all remains a task unseen~

Unseen burdens are softly laid,
by hands whose love does not degrade.
They build in silence, and give with grace,
while never getting to take up~ their own space.

But time reveals what eyes ignore,
the silent work, the open door.
So though you may turn your head,
these hands never stop working on the path ahead.

So honour those who give and give,
who make it easier just to live.
Even if their work seems small,
These are the hands that hold it all.

TB💞

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