Freedom ain’t free

The house I grew up in

was not the house I was born in

so I have no lullaby memories,

just themes songs of Romper Room, Howdy Doody,

Captain Kangaroo and Sunday morning hymns

in four part harmony.

I weeded momma’s garden,

took care of siblings,

snuck out at night to run the neighborhood

and fetched the belt if I got caught.

Pain was just the price I paid for freedom

welts and bruises my receipt.

I ain’t no silver spoon fed nepo baby with heel spurs

I’ve done paid my dues

and I will pay them again.

‘Cause freedom ain’t free

3-25-25