You Know My Mom? She Was a Lucky Lady

©2017 E. R. Smith

You know my mom?  She was a lucky lady

Raised in 1930’s foster care

Our fathers abandoned us to her care

None left their last names behind

You know my mom?  She was a lucky lady

Raised four children on her own

Struggled to keep house and home

Very few treated her kind

You know my mom?  She was a lucky lady

Stretched resources like five loaves and two fish

Gave thanks for every received wish

We were all so sure of her love

My mom,  she sure was a lucky lady!

Called Jesus’ blessings like a preacher

Couldn’t read well, but raised a teacher

She now watches us from above

You know, I hope I’m lucky like that lady.

Loved and revered by children and grands

At her funeral most could only stand

I so love and miss my lady.

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CHilDhood: South Bronx 1970’s


By E. R. Smith

The South Bronx experience.  New York circa the 1970’s was my childhood playground.  I played in abandoned buildings with my little brother and friends.  We didn’t know about serial killers; for that matter we didn’t yet know children could die.  Adventure was the name of our day long before Dora the Explorer.  Public transportation was dirty, crowded, and colorful. I saw many a graffiti artist compete for best picture.  I saw them all as artists.  Mattresses were trampolines for the Olympians America has never met.  Even then I thought as I watched my friends flip; where’s the committee that chooses participants for the Olympics?  I want to see my friends win a medal.  Childhood doesn’t understand demographics.  Politics were a mystery.  We were totally poor and never knew it.  Ignorance was all around us and we were blissfully unaware.  Knowing what I know now; I still miss my childhood and wouldn’t change a thing.