We were the bangs that
covered her eyes ...
the bangs thathadn’t been washed
in ages and
so we danced around herforehead,
waiting to be brushed
to the side,
in any attempt tolook nice.
We were her car keys because
we always got lost,
nomatter where she put us,
it was our fault (we never were goodlisteners),
we were always shiny around,
like a trinket ofindependence.
We were her lungs,
we always helped her breatheand
we brought her a mask
due to too many cigars shesmoked,
she was a woman with manly lungs;
torn lungs morelike,
but still, we stayed with her.
We were pearls,her
beautiful prized pearls,
and she showed us off tocompany.
Beautiful gems that showed
she had at least
an ounceof class.
And we were her bed-sheets and her pillows,
- (and allof the above) -
She leaned on us, and we made hercomfortable,
(Don’t all people have to change theirsheets?)
we made a nice bed for her to lay on
when she had anotorious headache.
All because we was Mama’s kids.