A house so full,
A world so boring
Only two beds,
Made to serve nine people.
The only time I have to myself is at the dead of night
I wait for my eyes to grow
tired,
so I can walk to the room,
and crawl on to
the only place I can go to sleep,
and that place is the floor.

And I sleep Through the day,
And when he sends me a text,
though I love him so
He is in love with another,
He doesn't know.

Then, the children fight,
and scream
then blame me,
I am sent to sit in the laundry room,
or yelled at directly.

Night falls, and the cycle starts agian.