'Penny Lane' Poem by Ima Ryma

Momma grew up in Liverpool,
On Penny Lane, second floor flat.
When entertaining, had one rule,
Don't go in where the baby's at.
We lived above the barber shop
That Paul McCartney sang about.
Sometimes wonder, was he my pop?
He prob'ly knew Momma, no doubt.
Momma overdosed and she died.
To an orphanage I got sent.
Penny Lane was just a short ride.
Thought of going, but never went.

Momma had Beatles on the brain,
And so renamed me 'Penny Lane.'