as older we grow...

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They're a world of care, and I would not dare To claim that my burden is light, For they take my time, these children of mine, I'm busy from morning till night. For living is high, and there's shoes to buy, And books when we start them to school, And counting their dress, and all, I confess I'm broke, as a general rule. And Mama? My land! I can't understand, It seems to be part of their plan To steal all her hours, these children of ours, From Betty clear down to Joan. For when prayers are said, and she's gone to bed, And all's set till morning, you'd think, Some youngster will cheep, when she's half asleep, "Hey, Mama, come bring me a drink!" They're thoughtless, at best, and give us small rest, These children to whom we belong, But I've this to say, that they sort of pay For their care as they go along. For folks, when they're grown,and we're left alone, Just two of us here in the house, With no one to call, or need us at all, And everything's still as a mouse. I think that we'd give, oh worlds, just to live Again with the loved ones we miss, And think not a task our babies could ask, Was high at a hug and a kiss. For somehow we know, as older we grow, That sure as the sun shines above, Our hearts are a lake of tears, and an ache, With no one to work for, and love.