POEM - Blessed are the Poor

The secret thing I grew up with

Is that I was oblivious

I never knew we were poor

That it was a big struggle

We weren't impoverished

But we weren't wealthy

It was a middle class

Check to check

Skin of the teeth

Type of upbringing

I take that back

I sort of knew it

Sometimes it was obvious

When dinner was pinto beans

            And there was no ketchup

                        And it had been for the last 3 days

I knew it a little then

But it didn't bother me

            OK, not having ketchup bothered me

Have you ever had a plain  bowl of pinto beans?

Thank goodness we moved to Arizona

I learned how to make refried beans ASAP

Sucking on a lump of refried beans

Beats a bowl of pintos any day!

I'm still poor

And I'm kind of OK with it

I have nice kids

And they get over stuff

Mostly because they expect nothing

Everything is a gift

And being grateful is a better gift

Besides the poor meal has improved

We make refried beans and rice

With homemade tortilla chips

All from scratch

The kids even ask for it

            When we aren’t poor

                        It is just that good

I'm not saying it is easy

Struggling to figure it all out

Deciding what bills to pay

What can wait a little longer

Pushing everything to the last minute

But we are happy

And I know those that have

And they are never satisfied

And they can't be quite

And their world has to plummet into the abyss

Before they can just sit

Be calm

Find peace

And watch the clouds

Roll by in a parade

            Of crazy zoo animals