There are no stands where hands applaud
The second miles nobody sees
No pedestals with accolades
To showcase life’s small victories
There are no marbled halls of fame
To heroes with love-tender heart
No salute-tip-of-hat acclaim
To everyone doing their part
To we of ordinary creed
There are no merits to record
But still we bend to tend to need
For love is its own sweet reward
© Janet Martin
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