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I'm older now
My kids are grown
They left this house
Without having known
How hard I worked
Both day and night
To make sure
I was raising them right
I cooked, I cleaned
I pressed their clothes
I held the tissues
While they blew their nose.
I watched them grow
day by day
Until that time
That they moved away
I thought I would find
some peace at last
Those hectic days
Were finally past
But now as then
I miss the noise
that comes with raising
Girls and boys.
No place to be
No schedule to keep
No tears to dry
As little ones weep
Sometimes there are
tears I do find
But strangely enough
Those tears are mine
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Poetry: Empty nest syndrome
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