I have taught… Well rather listened to many lessons, stories and lectures.
I am what happens if these walls could talk.
I’ve felt the bended knees of sad children.
I have felt the bended knees of sorry children.
I have heard the talks of a mother
“What’s wrong my child?”
Cluttered with shoes and books and magazines.
Lane Bryant and JC Penny.
I have housed house robes and bedroom slippers.
I have kept my patience when the light flickers.
Inhaled cigarette smoke and inherited the most comfy of chairs.
There are days with worry
“What will become of these kids.”
I’ve witnessed trip slip signings
“Please can I go?”
And below average test signatures
“It’s not my fault!”
Same painted wall and same old carpet.
Now stained with memories of orange juice from Mother’s Day breakfast.
Tossed in with some Campbell’s soup for the soul.
Still warming toes on winter mornings.
I sing the song ‘dear mama’ in Mama’s corner.