No One Thanks A Host For Their Hard Work; Just Their Dinner

Sacrifice
For me
Is always
Holding back
The urge
To write
It all down
Without worry
Of everyone's
Specific tastes
Without worry
Of those who
Do not
Understand
What I bring
To the table
Without worry
Of how they might
Whisper
Amongst each other
After they Digest
And pick apart
All that I have
Given them
If only they knew
Of all the hours
And labor
Instead of
Just a glimpse
Of the end result
This sacrifice
Is knowing
That I just
Entertain
Those who wish
To be amused
While my best
Work is always
Slaving away
In the Kitchen