Long days mash together like potatoes on Sundays,
my mind screams of all the things left to be done
but I'm done,
I need a break, just five minutes to myself
so I sit here in the corner
on the floor of my kitchen, my favourite spot
and I hide behind a wooden chair
with my notepad, a pen and a cigarette
sipping cider from a wine glass
hoping I can finish before my name is called
again...
nope never mind, there they go,
shouting once more,
mommas work is never done
a thousand bedtimes in one night
ironing, washing up and laundry
but tonight,
tonight I give up,
what will be will be
as I sit here sipping cider from a wine glass
hoping upon hope I have more in the fridge.
-
Author:
kitty the naughty poet (
Offline) - Published: December 9th, 2021 04:18
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this a few nights ago
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments6
As a carer i know this feeling the now now now no time to simply pause and take a breath. Your Vision of the chair the floor the alcohol are literal and yet represent the metaphor of hiding whether it be behind the chair within the glass or simply by running free across the naked page leaving ink stained footprints. Great piece very well expressed
Thank you for such a nice comment. yes you are right and thank you for reading
So easy to see mum as mum and not a real person, just a role. But kids aren't perceptive are they... sympathy.
But pleased to see that you have this cathartic safety valve we call writing poetry.
Thanks dusk
you're Poetry is awesome!
just saying
oh, and thanks for sharing
Aww thanks
Good write Katie.
I did short study course on the science of alcohol - 'tis true. Am I on the gin now!? Well, it told us how to brew beer too.
But I'm almost teetotal in fact. lol.
I don't usually drink but i had some left from thanksgiving so drank them lol
That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! lol.
Erm, the short course on alcohol, I mean. Trying to understand the chemical formulas covered could give ya hangover without touching a drop.
Being a mother is the hardest job in this planet
Cause she is a multi purpose relationship holder
A friend, a sister, a teacher and what not
Hats off to you dear poet
Thank you
I am sure there will be many who can relate to this ............
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