Stacked and Piled by Nancy Thomas
My life is full of children wild,
they run and play,
in carefree ways,
and always in the kitchen now,
dirty dishes, stacked and piled.
In single days, my mother smiled
to hear me say,
“Order is the parents' way.”
but these days I must wade and plow,
through toys and tots all stacked and piled.
My hair has not been washed or styled,
my nails are bad,
my wardrobe sad,
and ever, always, mounds and mounds
of dirty laundry, stacked and piled.
Children won't be stamped and filed
sticky messes
tangled tresses
but always at bedtime now,
hugs and kisses, stacked and piled.
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