A Cleaner’s Life

In dawn's soft light, the cleaner’s day begins,

A world of clutter, chaos they must mend.

With tools in hand, they set to sweep and spin,

Through homes and halls, their tireless steps extend.

Their touch is light, yet strong in every way,

Erasing traces of a day well-spent.

With every stroke, they gently sway,

Creating spaces fresh, a pure intent.

Their silent work, a quiet symphony,

In corners dark, in every hidden place.

They find the unseen, clear with modesty,

Their presence felt, though rarely seen in face.

Hands worn with toil, yet spirits bright and clear,

For in their labor, pride and purpose blend.

A cleaner’s life, a craft sincere,

A humble role on which we all depend.

Beneath the layers of dust and grime, they see,

The stories lived, the lives that intertwine.

With every pass, they set the spirit free,

A cleaner’s life, an unsung art divine.

- Jasmine