Mother’l buy her self a brick bungalow
a top the hill, where homes are built just so.
Every one there wears hats and heels,
when they sit down to dine in front of dainty
She says no sacrifice is too great or too tiny,
too pure, innocent or shinny,
to give, to live in that part of town.
Now dear daughter hide you sad face and frown.
Now walk to school up hill and find your seat
next to the girls that are smart and neat.
They’ll be the students, the ones with a star
getting ready to graduate with a brand new car!
They were given’ by their parents a proud heritage a dignity,
and confidence to pursue their own, new identity.
Now daughter dear, these are the emotional riches, a sliver spoon,
all packaged together known as an heirloom!
But mother I don’t understand, do I have this too?
They call me hideous names and say I am a shrew!
I don’t understand, is there a difference between us all?
I wear dark denims and a hand made shawl.
I walk bent down to hide my sad frown.
But daughter dear, you were given’ a proud secret to guard like a crown.
You were even given’ my new husbands last name.
But mother I have this sick, heavy feeling of shame,
all packaged up in my heart of gloom.
Is this my heritage, my precious heirloom?
Well then I’ll bury it deep in my memory!
That’s where it truly belongs,
cause no one’s sorry.
This memory or heirloom will stay buried for as
long as I live.
I can’t believe this is the precious heirloom
my parents planned
June 30 2000