Yes, Yes, I Am a Mom

Every day feels just the same,  
Feeding, cleaning, working—oh, what a game.  
Juggling tasks all at once,  
It feels overwhelming more than once.  

My usual excuse is, “Let’s see,”  
Or postponing any gathering, just to be free.  
My usual lines are, “I’m late” or “I’m sleepy,”  
Every day feels like a repeat, deeply.

I think I’m the only one to complain,  
About everything under the sun’s reign.  
But they say, “No, no, you’re not alone,  
Every mother feels this down to the bone.


By Dharmi