Oh Children Dear!

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.


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