Won’t my Parents be proud?

I got a degree 1 day,
And my parents said, they were happy for me....
And I was happy.
And then I got a good job,
And they were again happy for me.

So then, my parents asked me,
What do you do at work?
And this is how,
My poetry begins....

I proudly said,
I help in making the sweet memories of people come true,
I help in making people happy,
I help in taking care of people.

And my parents still looked puzzled,
So I said, you see the work I do is pretty hard,
I work alot, starting from dusk to dawn, sometimes at weird hours,
All this at the risk of my family,
So many a times I missed the birthdays, So many times an important marriage.

I work sometimes even when my heart aches,
Someone at home is sick, and yet I smile though there’s tears inside.
My salary is less, but yet I work so much.

My family is still puzzled,
And then I explain.
Every1 has some dreams I say,
They work hard and earn money and with this money,
They plan their sweet little holidays.

I say my job is making sure that these dreams that my guests sees,
May come true, so somewhere I have a place in his heart too.
I love to know people and to be of their assistance,
And all I work for is their genuine smiles.

My parents aren’t puzzled anymore.
They hug me and call me their pride,
Whether I cook in the kitchen or Serve food,
I welcome all the guests, or clean the rooms,
My parents are really proud.

Hospitality is my Occupation,
Cause a hotelier I am and that’s what I shall always be.

- A Poem by Fizz

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