I fear you must get far away from me now
or I will chop your hands off to keep them clean.
I will lock you in your rooms
to keep from having to trip over your toys.
You will go without food or water
so I no longer have to clean the bathroom messes.
And yet I cannot
for I love you dear
and having my back hurt
in order to pick you up
is only nature’s way
of telling me I am old.