My Working Daughter.

A few real early mornings each week

I drive to your house holding the fort and filling the gap

between his and her jobs I babysit your four and no more

breakfasts school clothes lunches to make faces and teeth

you arrive from all night on the ward battling the fray

tired and beat to sit on the couch clutching the baby near

always a kind girl at heart you wonder if playing your part

helped any troubled souls improve their going along the way

because you always wanted to be

more than a nurse with a key

maybe you can settle to know

you’re the best ever mum for

your four and no more

 

 

 

 

 

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