The morning starts with a sigh and a stare,
"Any job updates?"—the question floats in the air.
Tea on the table, tension in the air,
Unseen weights on every chair.

Children bend beneath the books,
Pages filled with worried looks.
Marks define their worth, they say,
A childhood slowly fading away.

Mom’s voice rises, a familiar song,
Dishes clatter, something’s wrong.
Bills to pay, clothes to mend,
A cycle of worries that never end.

The father nods, the news plays loud,
Another day lost within the crowd.
Dreams are trimmed to fit the mold,
Stories of risks left untold.

And yet, amidst the noise and strife,
This is home, this is life.
Love wrapped in scolding, care in demands,
A house held up by tired hands.