Walking through the house
That doesn't feel like home;
As well as all your children.
Those memories were gone.
You walk the floors and worry,
Wishing for cattle and land,
For food, for cash crops.
You just can't understand how
It is today--why we don't need all that.
Your mind is still in the years
I try to explain, tell you
There's nothing to worry about.
I cook, and I tell you when it's
Time to eat, and I give you your pills.
Copyright 1994-2005 Brenda S. Parris