My days are days of small affairs,
Of trifling worries, little cares-----
A lunch to pack, a bed to make,
A room to sweep, a pie to bake,
A hurt to kiss, a tear to dry,
A head to brush, a bow to tie,
A face to wash, a rent to mend,
A meal to plan, a fuss to end,
A hungry husband to be fed-----
A sleepy child to put to bed.
I, who had hoped some day to gain
Success-----perhaps a bit of fame,
Must give my life to small affairs,
Of trifling worries, little cares.
But, should tomorrow bring a change,
My little house grow still and strange-----
Should all the cares I know today
Be swept, quite suddenly, away,
Where now a hundred duties press
Be but an ache of loneliness;
No child's gay ribbons to be tied,
No wayward little feet to guide:
To Heaven then would rise my prayers:
"Oh God, give back my little cares!"
by Tramp Star
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