At the end of another day

The day ends and in the blinking light of the passing cars,
You see them all. Heading home.
The men with stooped backs carrying heavy loads,
To wives whom they will beat and love.
The women, heads down and steps quick, to a cold stove,
Waiting to be heated up.
The parents, smiling bright, bickering soft,
Behind children with lips turned up as high as the balloons floating above.

~Sam