A poem dedicated to all the maids I've met.
Like the rays of sunlight that peek through a canopy; A smell escaping through a crack in the door; Or the sound of the ocean from the hollow of a seashell; She takes a moment of reprieve, an escape from her life. A stolen moment, one of clarity and doubt; surety and uncertainty; joy and despair, precious and fleeting; an escape from the grind. A moment to remind her of what was once hers; a path she left behind; and people long forgotten. A moment of happiness amidst the gloom and the gray,
A moment of relief,
an escape from her work. Alas! It ends, as all things must She savours the memory of a moment, once hers. She ties up her bun, rolls up her sleeves; and gets back to work, to the grind of her life.
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