by Patricia Parker

Created on: July 18, 2008

I was born in November of '44
No drive-in banking or convenience store.
A small TV was for the wealthy,
While cherry colas kept us healthy.

A pound of round would feed us all
Yet my brothers grew up strong and tall.
Our fries were cooked in heavy lard
And we ate berries from the yard.

We stayed up late, we had no air,
The local pool would cleanse our hair.
We didn't fear the mosquito's itch
Bug repellent was for the rich.

We seemed to know that life was fine
Even while sharing a telephone line.
Our cars ran 50 without a holler
But gas to fill them was just a dollar.

We had no pills to pep us up
At night we often slept in the buff.
We never feared what neighbors saw
While we were sleeping in the raw.

Life was simple, life was good
We grew up in a neighborhood
Full of people just like us
Who didn't cry, complain or fuss.

We walked, we biked, we played at life
No feel-good pills to ease the strife
Yet strife was what we never had
The good old days were not so bad.

I look back now with hindsight clear
And remember that I knew no fear
I felt safe and loved in my small town
And to that memory I am bound.

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