A mother's tea is always cold

Scrabbled together between dish washes

Brewed while the wash is locked and loaded

Or loaded and locked, who even knows? 

A mother's tea is always cold. 

Over brewed or under, teabag out in thunder 

Speed or is it lightning? Who even knows? 

A mother's tea is always cold. 

When it's hot, there's always time 

To pick up messes, clean...

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Broken. Or tired. I'm not sure.
I couldn't love them any more.
Any more than I already do.
Words are funny things too.

I yearn for the energy to play
All day with my loves. Just play
With a happy, energetic heart. 
Yet here I struggle at the start
Just to be present and chirpy
To have the patience of thirty

I feel abandoned at the helm
No help just looks of overwhelm
As if it's my ...

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