The work I do, the coins I earn,
They aren't for me, a selfish yearn.
They're for small hands, a future bright,
To chase their dreams with all their might.
I know I'll leave this world someday,
My pockets are empty, come what may.
But in their lives, my love will bloom,
A legacy that fills each room.
For them I strive, for them I plan,
A better life, a helping hand.
So they may rise, and bravely soar,
And prosper on forevermore.
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Author:
Mark The Phenomenon (
Offline) - Published: April 16th, 2026 09:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
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Comments2
Nicely written. Your poem expresses a deep commitment to ensuring a brighter future for children, highlighting the sacrifices made for their dreams and well-being.
A poem of giving a sacrifice for the future generation, nicely said
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