There is a job that some will hate
The pressures high and few relate,
The hours long and pay surreal,
No one else would accept this deal.
No time off throughout the week,
Seven days straight – tongue and cheek.
Around the clock, they survive,
Even though barely alive.
They sleep when their standing,
It’s always demanding;
As the migraine explodes.
Yelling and screaming,
Kicking and teasing,
Their patience wears thin,
A punch to their chin.
Yet, they stand fast,
They’re single moms,
Steady and calm,
Angels of light,
Always hold tight.
Ode to Single Moms by K. Saitta © 2019, A Walk In Verse