I’m not a natural mother
When comparing myself to others
I don’t know how to play
Or get through a rainy day
Going to the park is exhausting
I always forget what to bring
I don’t like mess or muck or mud
Although I do alright with blood
I always seem to be tired and cross
Thinking about the things I’ve lost
No freedom, no time, no smiles
Just chores that stretch for miles and miles
Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum
I, I, I, I
Want, Want, Want, Want,
Me, Me, Me, Me
Where did I go?
I’m not a natural mother, no
But I try to figure it out, so
I can turn frowns upside down
And tickle fights with lots of laughter
We read and sing and do puzzles
Watch TV and go out to play
Doing something every single day
I feed and wash and hug these tiny people
Never knowing if it’s wrong or right
A small hand that clings on tight
An unexpected hug
A kiss and a smile and a snuggle
That’s my children
That’s love
Nice poem. It reminds me of those days when mine were young.
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