I had four kids a year apart.
Getting pregnant a knack I had.
Easily gave my bod and heart.
Each kid had a different dad.
All of the dads took off, but I
Kept my two girls and my two boys.
The last twelve years just seemed to fly.
My foursome keep me filled with joys.
Lots of sacrifices I made
For food to eat and place to live.
But now my kids have learned a trade.
For the family all do give.
My kids are 'terrors' of the 'hood.
As pickpockets they're very good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem