Beauty to me is the human spirit
You can feel it, see it, hear it . We are it !
Its in my man who goes to work
at six each day
To a job he hates; has for five and twenty
To keep collectors at bay
Only way he could take care of us
Him, me, the three--
Oh. hell fuss !
But only sometimes ;
Without an education
Some men do crimes. He never did!
Says he won't, can't quit, this job he hates
Only way he can support,
So he waits--
Play's "Lotto" dreams
As I hold down the fort.
I'm seldom up
When he heads out the door,
My beautiful hero
Just turned forty-four!!