Memory of Misery
Life was not good we were real poor.
Making ?end?s-meat? was a failing chore.

My sister was wild, mom sent her away.
She cried tears of misery for many a day.

Social Services threatened to take us from our mother.
They?d make us go live with someone other.

Mom was sad, I thought someone was dying.
I was too young to understand why she was crying.

For some reason mom said goodbye.
To get us back, she vowed she?d try.

They took us away, it seemed like slow-motion.
I felt like I drank a lethal potion.

They sent us to live with a stranger.
We could not help but feel like life was a danger.

All that time I felt so unwell.
We spent two years in that living hell.

I am back home, things are better these days.
But no matter what I do the Memory of Misery stays.