Multicolor lights shine on her face
A roll of paper, scotch tape, and a pair of scissors at her side,
The minutes turn into hours,
As she slaves away,
Solely creating the magic,
Her children will wake up to.
They won’t attribute this to her hard work,
No, all their praises will go to the man with the bag,
She tries to smile and not show her frustration,
Anxiously waiting for the day,
She can show them the truth,
Of her labor.
