She stands in the doorway
Surveying the devastation.
The mournful wailing
Departing from the tiny body.
Books scattered,
Papery bodies left crumpled and torn.
An abandoned doll
Staring longingly at the overturned pram.
A lonely bear
Half hidden by a beat-up blue blanket.
She closes her eyes,
Distraught by the destruction.
The anger.
The hate.
The carpeted battlefield,
So warm and inviting,
Mocking her motherhood,
Ripping through her resolve.
She has lost this battle to incertitude.
But soon another campaign will ensue
And with it another chance to take back her land.
*a poem by me after a particularly stressful day of kids bickering and destroying the house
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