It was gone!
I Was So Blind…
His Legacy; Are His Words.
For My Mum!
We REALLY Don't Talk About It, Do We? I Am!
Poetry Poem
When Poo Is His Business.
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Why?
Why do they do it?
Because I'll never understand,
All the pain and sorrow,
Through something so underhand?
Parenthood should be a happy time,
As we watch out children grow,
We are never prepared for the day…
When our children want to go!
Then, no reason for it,
Just selfish thoughts they own,
For now they are ‘18',
And want to be alone!
‘18', something we should dread,
For this is the ‘ADULT' age,
When tempers and tantrums become…
Nothing short of ‘rage'!
A lovely home to live in,
Comforts… second to none,
But…now they are ‘18',
And government have won!
They deemed this the adult age,
And caused turbulence and strife,
Gave the youth of today the power,
For the ruination of their life!
‘18', no celebration for me,
For this is the dreaded day,
That my son walks out of the door,
And there's nothing I can say?
Hurt! Like nothing on earth,
And pain like a sharpened knife,
When government lowered the adult age,
Quite frankly…they ruined my life!!
©Catherine Inglesby 1997
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