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My nose pressed against the window
Running childrens' feet, in their prime.
And six brown eyes look deep in mine
Always stirring in pans, the, here, eat.
Shopping bags leaning against my feet.
Now they have babies of their own
No more kisses when they cry, or are alone.
No more squabbles, it is so quiet.
Mother now is retired.
Start a new life, it is your time now.
Who can tell me how?
By Antonia Elias