Hello everyone, you are welcome to my post. In this post, I wrote about a poem I tilted “My childhood”
Dirty clothes and body covered in sand
Different toys lying around
To fit into the play in mind
To him it's perfectly arranged and makes sense
But in the real sense it's a mess that makes no sense.
"...Mummy's home!..."
Complains of the day follows this line
Then comes the request...
".. What did you buy?..."
"...Can I have some?..."
With those tiny hands stretching out
And those cute faces that are hard to ignore.
My best part is the end
When they're all dressed in PJ's
I'd tuck them in and read to them
To watch them fall asleep is forever priceless.
And this sight makes me forget;
how troublesome they can be
How I almost ran mad in the day screaming
The stress of cleaning up their mess
And all the mistakes made trying to learn a lesson.
Precious memories, sweet adventures
Makes up the an album of children.
Thanks for reading🙂