a Poem

She never drove a car.
She would walk and walk
the distance no matter how far.

Her wrists were dented from|
bags she carried for miles,
but she never lamented,
nor did she cry.

I remember this well,
the buzzing inner city street,
as my brother and I
straggled along with
our little feet.

Brother would beg to be carried
too. As his little legs would tire,
mama knew what she had to
do.

She gently lifted and placed
him in one arm with great care,
while her other arm and
groceries looked like they
would tear.

As…

This is a true story.

I died on 9th Street and St. Clair.
Please let me tell you how I got there.

Raised in poverty of an immigrant pair,
I was one of ten children with not much to share.

By day Papa worked hard but by night drank like a fish.
Mama was a big woman who could whip anything into a
great dish.

All nine brother and sisters were as cold as could be.
Growing up with them they never cared about me.

Average looks or a little less, I certainly was not the
type to play chess.

…

The Unborn

Although you couldn’t see me,
you never questioned that I was
there. Consumed by my future
became your daily care.

The first trimester began
with a bang. All your plans you
rearranged.

You made me so happy,
that first day you kicked in gear —
you resolved to be good and
stay away from the beer.
Not an easy task to do,
since it was during your
relapse I came to you.

My teardrops flowed
as I saw you suffer so,
as your panic attacks
increased and the doctor
said your pills had to go.

As if that…