House Guests Poem by Francie Lynch

House Guests



That's what they call themselves,
They make tea and meals,
Clean up after too;
Use the washer,
And everything else,
Things that guests don't do.
I wouldn't call them house guests,
They're way more than that
To me;
Guests will knock on my front door,
These ones walk right through.
I know each one intimately,
They're family to me.

Monday, December 28, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: family,love
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Francie Lynch

Francie Lynch

Monaghan, Ireland
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