These are hard times if you’re three years old & mom’s on crack
We, the lucky ones; Loving healthy families with enough to get by and some to share.
When the three year old now twelve looks back and remembers,
The person that helped me in this cold scary place;
The courthouse, The foster home, The terror of not my family,
God help me I’m so alone,
Hope comes from caring people,
Pass it on.
