Photo Album

"Twins"

There's two to wash,
there's two to dry,
there's two who argue,
there's two who cry.

One's in the mud
having a ball,
the other holds a crayon,
another marked the wall.

Some days seem endless,
my patience grows thin.
Why was I chosen to be
a mother of twins?

The answer comes clear
at the end of the day,
as I tuck them in bed
and to myself I say,

There's two to kiss,
there's two to hug,
and best of all,
there's two to love.
-
Anonymous