No really,
I can hear you ticking, ticking on.
Your life is full of sacrifice,
your odd definition of love.
You ever wonder why you feel guilty?
You're not good enough for yourself.
Properly raising three kids in their twenties
Why did you think it was possible?
I still admire your efforts.
Your love runs deep
When we're playing on the streets
Going places we shouldn't be,
Hanging out till 5am.
Anger, worry, frustration
Pacing, phoning, and typing.
You can't yell at me anymore
I'm almost twenty-four
"So you're finally home?"
"Why yes, now leave me alone."
And that ticking skips and explodes.
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