by Kris Fuller
My kids are home now, every day.
I think of them while I work, away.
I kiss and leave them at my door,
‘We’ll tidy, clean and wash the floor.’
They promise me and wave goodbye,
I smile and turn so I don’t cry.
They are so good, so sweet and kind,
Old enough that they don’t mind -
That I must work, they understand-
But, I want to stay, to hold their hand...
Leaving sometimes feels so wrong.
I yearn to be home- where I belong.
But, I am needed at the clinic too,
And if I don’t work- that wouldn’t do.
I draw on strength and boldly go,
To help my world; for my children: show.
That what we do matters more -
Love is an action from within our core.
When we focus on what’s kind and right
That soon, together, we will win this fight.