In the quiet dawn, when the world still sleeps,
They rise with gentle hearts, their promises to keep.
With every whispered prayer, and every tender sigh,
They weave dreams of futures, as the stars begin to die.
Through the long days, their hands never still,
Crafting worlds of wonder, with loveâs gentle will.
They mend our broken wings, and teach us how to fly,
In the tapestry of life, they are the threads that tie.
In the shadows of the night, they silently stand guard,
Their every sacrifice, a testament to loveâs regard.
In their eyes, the universe, and the stories untold,
They bear the weight of dreams, both new and old.
When storms of life threaten, and skies turn grey,
They are the lighthouse guiding us, showing the way.
For every tear unshed, and every silent plea,
A parent’s sacrifice is loveâs eternal decree.