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by tiny
Homeless mothers
and poor mothers
Low-wage mothers
and no-wage mothers
Welfare mothers
And three job working mothers
Immigrant mothers
And incarcerated mothers
In other words
This poem is honor of
INS-ed with,
CPS-ed withed and
Most of all
System-messed with
mothers
This poem is honor
of all those poor
women and men
And yes
I said men
Cause don’t sing
me that old song
About gender again
Who fight and struggle
And steal and beg
In every crevasse
And corner
to keep their kids in a bed
Who dress and feed
with tired hands
Who answer cries
over and over again
This poem is in honor of all those Mothers
who deserve to be coddled
And loved
Fed and protected
Instead of criminalized,
Marginalized
and rarely respected
Who can barely make it but always do
And still raise all the worlds' people
Like me
you
and you
Can I get a witness?
This poem is honor of mothers
Who can barely make it
But sometimes do…
And still raise all the worlds' people
Like me
you
and you
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