She wakes up before the sun comes up,

With tired hands and sleepy eyes.

Breakfast's done, and lunch is ready,

Two kids in tow, her day is steady.

At work, she’s sharp, always present,

Fixing issues with skill and intent.

Her boss calls her the office gem,

But her mind wanders far from them.

Home by five, chaos starts,

Dinner to make, homework to do.

Parents call with what they need,

She listens, helps, then takes the lead.

Laundry spins, the floor is dirty,

Her energy dims, but she stays sturdy.

“You’re so great!” her friends all say,

“Superwoman!” a name she won’t play.

For they don’t see her silent cries,

The heavy heart, the restless sighs.

She loves her kids, her job, her life,

But wonders where she fits into

Her cape isn’t real, her strength is low,

She hides the pain with a weary show.

She dreams of peace, a restful space,

Where she’s not a hero, just her own grace.

So let’s raise a glass to the woman concealed,

The one who manages all she’s appealed.

Superwoman? Yes, but

let’s be true,

Even heroes need someone to see them through.