She gave her days, she gave her years,
She swallowed rage, she blinked back tears.
She held the line, she bore the load,
And called it love, that lonely road.

 

She stayed with him though love was gone,
Because to leave would feel like wrong.
She raised the kids, she paid the bills,
And silenced all her deeper wills.

 

A good one lives to serve, not feel,
She trades her joy for others’ meals.
She fades to keep the world intact—
That’s goodness, she knows how to act.

 

She heard the mantras all her life:
“Don’t quit,” “Be strong,” “A loyal wife.”
“Put others first,” “Be kind, be fair,”
To think of self she should not dare.

 

She never slept until she’d earned
The right to rest for what she’d burned.
And when desires began to spark,
She crushed them cold and kept it dark.

 

A good one lives to serve, not feel,
She trades her joy for others’ meals.
She fades to keep the world intact—
That’s goodness, she knows how to act.

 

Now sixty-five, with kids all grown,
She finds herself again alone.
No dreams fulfilled, no fires to tend—
Just sacrifice for days on end.

 

She does it right, she pays her dues,
No love for self she daily rues.
And in her chest, a civil strife:
But she looks good—a hard hard life.

 

A good one lives to serve, not feel,
She trades her joy for others’ meals.
She fades to keep the world intact—
That’s goodness, she knows how to act.