They say women cannot say “no.”
Yet they carry burdens no one knows.
As daughters, they shrink their dreams,
Fit themselves in silent seams.
As sisters, they give their share,
Stand behind, pretend not to care.
As lovers, they wait, they bend,
Call it patience in the end.
As wives, they swallow pride,
Hide their hurt and let it slide.
As mothers, they lose their name,
Wear exhaustion without complaint.
Her hands grow rough, her palms grow thin,
Yet they fix broken things.
Their silence is not defeat.
It is love on tired feet.
Yet they carry burdens no one knows.
As daughters, they shrink their dreams,
Fit themselves in silent seams.
As sisters, they give their share,
Stand behind, pretend not to care.
As lovers, they wait, they bend,
Call it patience in the end.
As wives, they swallow pride,
Hide their hurt and let it slide.
As mothers, they lose their name,
Wear exhaustion without complaint.
Her hands grow rough, her palms grow thin,
Yet they fix broken things.
Their silence is not defeat.
It is love on tired feet.
