By day she walks among the weary streets,
With quiet strength, her heart a steady beat,
In every gaze, a thousand stories meet,
She knows their pain, though they won't speak her name.
Her hands are soft but firm with gentle care,
They wipe away the sorrows of the night,
A whispered word, a balm to calm despair,
Her presence turns the dark to tender light.
No cry unheard, no soul too lost to find,
She bears their weight, yet never bends her spine,
For kindness flows like rivers from her mind,
She serves not for herself, but what's divine.
And though her heart breaks with the world each day,
Her empathy renews, love shows the way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem