In '68, I heard a voice
Asking, 'Has this country gone mad? '
My Momma did not have a choice.
All life around her had gone bad.
A poor, uneducated black,
Single, unemployed woman just
Had little chance, as I look back,
For cause for hope, let alone trust.
For Momma there would never be
Finding the American Dream.
Each day she woke to misery.
Life does not change, so it would seem.
Today, my Momma's life I live.
Time stands still and does not forgive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem