Welcome to my 25th Crap Poem, Kids.
Today my poem is dedicated to the parents and guardians of the world who are struggling to manage expectations, parental pressure and concerns about passing on bad habits.
I know first hand that loving your kid takes priority, often at your own expence. We try and try to get everything right, but they still get poorly, make bad choices and eventually see most of us as the enemy.
It’s usually a thankless job, but I know I wouldn’t change anything for the world.
Here’s my attempt at conveying the feelings.
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Kids
Kids today are struggling.
Mum and dad are who we blame.
But I’m more broken than they were.
So will I be the same?
The mental illness in my head.
I try to quietly juggle.
What does that matter if I pass
It on for mine to struggle?
10 minutes in the bathroom.
With taps turned on and running.
Is where I silently let flow
todays tears I’d stopped coming.
At bedtime, everyone’s asleep.
I rest and my mind wanders.
Catastrophising what might come.
The worst case my mind conjures.
Dropping the kids off at school
12 minutes in the car.
My time to scream and honk my horn
and let go mental scars.
At my Dentists waiting room.
I use the time so well.
Re-reading angry messages.
Reliving age-old hell.
So as you see I hide it well.
My kids can’t tell my struggle.
They’re all loved and well behaved.
I shower them with cuddles.
“Why can’t I get in the loo?
I need to use the throne.”
“you’ll have to hang on for now.
Mum’s having time alone.”
“Mum is leaving school so quick.
I wish I’d said goodbye.”
“Don’t worry, Sis, she’ll be back soon.
There’s no need to cry.”
“Did you hear that noise last night?
I’m sure someone was crying.”
“It’s okay, it was foxes Sis.
Don’t worry, I’m not lying.”
It took me years to realise.
My eldest was a carer.
Hiding my poor mental health.
Was making a huge error.
My parents choices are to blame.
In part for how I turned out.
But I can make the choices now.
To start we talk and don’t shout.
In an effort to make change.
Erase mistakes of past
We talk now as a family.
A shared load is less vast.
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Thanks for reading 💜
Creative Steph 