My Time is Not Mine
My time is not mine and I say it’s a crime,
I think I’m in charge but it’s all pantomime.
What do I work for and who do I please?
My kids sit home lonely and I’m busier than bees.
They say slavery’s ended; I say it’s a joke,
For the burden I carry has made heavy my yoke.
I’m want to serve others and make charity my station,
Instead I serve the president of the federal plantation.
And when he is through exacting all that he can,
Then the state asks for more and of course, the city plan.
They say I’m a free man so what keeps me here?
I can’t afford travel, nor luxuries so dear.
Life is not all that I dreamed it would be,
When I waved bye to mommy, at the tender age of three.
You see, she worked two jobs and dad had another,
I missed them so much I would cry like no other.
I will not do that to my kids, no not me,
I’ll spend all my time with them, just wait and see.
And now with a phone from work I call home,
To talk to my son who sits home all alone.
How was your day, was it fun, did you play?
Alone I sat crying through most of the day.
Damn this false freedom, this damn paradigm,
It robs kids of parents and expends family time.
SO TRUE...none of us are ever really free!!!!
EXCELLENT WORK POET!!!!
~Nikki~
This is much heartfelt. I know the feelings. My hubby and I had gone through much rough times as well. I hope things will work out better for you and your son.
I was not aware of your situation. Please forgive my comment to your last poem. You may delete that if you find that offensive.
Once again, hope things will work out for the better for you and your son.
Good heartfelt write.
~ Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu ~