Me Time 

a poem about Me TimeMe Time

Jesus Christ,

for goodness sake.

The bloody kids

are still awake…

I’ve pleaded once.

I’ve pleaded twice.

I’ve been a twat,

and I’ve tried quite nice.

It’s half past 8,

I still hear noise.

Bare feet moving,

the clank of toys.

I shout up the stairs.

“It’s adult time!”

“Just go to sleep.”

“It’s nearly nine.”

But it all just fails,

and bedtime’s shite.

I go back up,

switch off the light.

Then all goes quiet

and all is dark.

And the bloody dog

begins to bark.

The baby howls

and the toddler whines.

I really felt

I’d lost my mind.

I returned upstairs,

I tucked them in.

I turned off the light,

retrieved my gin.

I warned the dog,

I listen out.

They didn’t murmur

and didn’t shout.

I felt relieved,

the kids in bed.

I battled through it

and kept my head.

And undefeated

my time began.

I’d watch a film,

that was my plan.

It wasn’t 10,

the night was young.

My ‘me time’ party

had just begun.

I hit the sofa

in a knackered heap.

I switched on the telly

and fell asleep.

Mrs FD

Similar Posts

One Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.