Being housebound with kids is torture
As freedom is seldom bestowed
Tied to apron strings my kids are
Too young to fend for themselves
Helpless as they may seem to be
Precocious is their nature I see
Separately, they are in their own world
When together, they bring the house down
Making a ruckus with their antics
Deafening decibels to my ears
Driving me up the wall they thrive
Tending to their every whim and fancy
As much as I loathe cleaning up their mess
Keeping the house spick and span
Is especially tiresome with boisterous kids
Hence the need to re-charge at day’s end
Or I will end up in cuckoo’s nest
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