Momma, Momma

Hands grip grass As tiny bugs play with long brown strands Dew dampens jeans underneath Dragging her deep into dirt She gazes into bright blue skies While memories play across clouds Simplicity comes to mind And her thoughts fall to days of innocence Tightly closing eyes She drifts to times where there was no work, school, daycare Times where money seemed to grow on trees Times where she could play in mud Without having to pay for it Now, a young twenty-one Many responsibilities drown her Dragging her deeper into dirt As she struggles hard to pull herself out Tears slide down tan skin, smearing makeup Dropping like bombs on earth Memories above turn dark And the sky cries too Washing off dirt that holds her down Light appears, beckoning her Momma, momma, it calls her She sits, Ruining bugs play time Dusting off problems, water She stands, walks Bright blue eyes form in the clearing Momma, momma Tiny, soft hands break through Force her back to reality Momma momma, Time to wake up