I was young when I started
raising these children
as a child myself
I skipped all the fun
Depending on who you are
depends on what I’ll say
about being a young mother
about loving them all the way
I’ll tell my closest friends
I wish it were different
I still miss out on all the fun
I can’t do a damn thing
without a little one on my leg
I’ll tell the world I love them
until the day I die
I will make them all believers
I’ll cook them dinners
I’ll give them baths to wash their hands and feet
I’ll wash all their clothes night and day
so they fit in at school and be clean
I won’t tell the world I can’t stand the sight
of the mess they make when they play
or that I secretly despise the laughs
and I scream to try and make them achieve
What I want, peace and quiet
my own bed with no intruders
my own bath to relax with music
to make a choice for just me, no one else
I will make you a believer
that I am the perfect mother
my children are angels from above
my soul is in it to cherish these tiny nightmares
Reflections of me