Walking with back-bending weights, trotting
along with tired feet to meet the hungry and
haughty demands of whoever has enough
money to order UberEats.

A mother of God knows how many, ferrying
soulless food through rivers of gas-guzzling
cows and self-absorbed guppies so she can
feed the souls of her soul, who may give
thanks to God but always forget to thank
their mummy.

Such is the devotion and isolation of mothers
and fathers, far too often breaking their backs
and sacrificing their soles by wearing the
same old shoes from five years ago, insisting
their kids buy new pairs so they look good
and get ahead when they show up to school
and go for interviews.

May God bless these burdened bodies with
overworked spirits; may He open the doors
of His treasures on them so they don't have
to kill themselves for their kids to live; may
He put a kernel of love in the hearts of these
saplings, enough to make them thank their
parents when they come home and greet
them with a smile—a smile so sweet that it
washes away the bitterness of a careless world.



© Walyullah