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Old 02-03-2018, 04:16 AM
eatoomey (Offline)
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Default untitled poem

I think, she thinks,
I think these are the best years of my life.
A fair few kids,
a tiny house,
a well-loved husband’s wife.

And tho she traipse’ from swimming lessons,
to Beavers then to school
laden down with bags and books,
jackets, mittens, boots.

And even when she drops them off and feels a guilty pang,
Or when she shouts, or kicks them out,
the door slammed with a bang.

When she cooks the millionth meal to noses turned upright
she thinks, she thinks,
this might just be,
the best years of my life.

She thinks, how can it be
that it won’t always be like this?
That one day I’ll sit upon a bench,
do nothing but exist?

No bums to wipe, no tears to dry,
no whining and no fuss:
Only won’dring if there’ll be a seat on the number seven bus.

I think, she thinks, I think I’m right.
Life’s memories are now.
To stop, to see, to memorise,
as slow as life allows.

For one day soon,
far sooner than it seems quite possible,
the life she’s living now, she thinks,
will be a mem’ry full.

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Old 02-03-2018, 05:26 AM
anna (Offline)
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... anna nipped in for a moment imagining how taxing eatoomeys life must be if it were in the real and now then. She marveled secretly that the girl had written anything at all - it was all I could do to think of the words and bundle them up on discarded imaginary paper stacked neatly in the corner of my head in times such as yours. ‘My thanks button doesn’t function, enjoy the writing, steal those cathartic moments and I for one will enjoy the reading of your words knowing the effort you took to place them here.’
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Old 02-03-2018, 08:16 AM
Palindrome (Offline)
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I think it should be titled - and perhaps dedicated.
If this is your actual life now, be aware that when the kids grow up, they make more kids and if you've done your mommy job well, they'll foist their kids on you as often as possible. You'll never sit idle!
Does daddy have no role?

Seriously - are you interested in a verse-by-verse critique?
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