Why do I write
When it is night
When there’s no light
With kids, a-fright
With bedtime fights
Without a knight
To see my plight
‘Cause he’s out-right
His eyes shut tight
While I still write
©2020 Chel Owens
Yelling yelling scream
Screaming screaming screaming ouch
Tattle tattle cry
©2020 Chelsea Owens
Photo Credit: Allen Taylor
There once was a mother of four
Who found that they wouldn’t do chores.
They’d gripe and they’d whine,
And they’d waste all her time.
Oh, how those chores she abhorred!
©2020 Chelsea Owens
“Scrub your plates,
And then the floor.
Wash your feet,
Then wash some more.”
Yet, through the filter
Of their brains,
The message shifts;
It’s not the same:
“Scrub your teeth,
With cookies, cake.
Wash the walls,
With homemade waste.”
©2020 Chelsea Owens
Photo Credit: Photo by JACK REDGATE from Pexels
I thought to write –
They thought otherwise
Or, maybe they just acted.
Either, or
I’m on the floor
At midnight
And, so are they.
©2020 Chelsea Owens
Photo Credit: Alexandra Gorn
I Didn't Want to Be a Mother 