I got them up at four to milk the cows.
 

It was cute that the little one
 

helped her sister. Her sister struggled harder so the little
 

one would think she had put the big can on the wagon.
 

White lies like the creamy milk
 

to make someone feel better.

 
 

I’m dying here
 

Don’t they know it?

 

I made them wash the soot from my clothes at seven.
 

It was cute the way the little one
 

laughed when she patted my back,
 

and I coughed up black dirt sprinkling from my breath.
 

Black lies from my boss
 

when he says coal dust won’t hurt me.
 

Do they think I believe
 

It is so easy for them? 

 

At nine, I sent them out to dig the peanuts.
 

It was cute that the little one
 

was covered in dirt as she made mud pies
 

next to her momma in the field.
 

Brown lies telling them that they are lazy
 

so they will work harder.
 

Don’t they know that if you work faster
Someday you can rest?
 

I closed the book at noon as the time clock called me.
 

It was cute that the little one
 

had tried to read the numbers in the book.
 

Red lies of numbers
 

that make you hope that someday you’ll be even.
 

By Nette Hyatt
 

Part of a collection of poetry by Nette Hyatt

No Make-up But Lipstick
Rhyme, Stanza, and Doggerel
 For the Literary Incorrect