Backwater Baby - Poem by Megan Ayscue
Down past Possum Road
Up towards the crumbling town
You'll find a house with a little lady
Down by the backwater
Of the trickling little stream
There is a house made of logs
And mud, with one little window
And a smoking chimney
Puffing tiny gray clouds into the bright blue sky.
When you step inside the ramshackle house
You'll hear the incessant crying
Of the backwater baby
Dealing with her own little troubles
By the trickling little stream
In the middle of nowhere, USA
As momma tries her hardest to survive
And daddy long gone, looking for a better life
Leaving the baby to cry.
Momma does what she can to live
Washing clothes for the rich people down the street
Keeping little baby going as best as she can
And singing on the weekends in the bar downtown
Leaving baby alone and crying
In her broken crib
Back at the stream down past Possum Road
In the tiny log house with the smoking chimney
Life goes on.
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