I remember my Mother
Sitting on the stoop 
On a Sunday afternoon 
Wondering and Wondering 
What next could she do? 
With six mouths to feed
Her struggle goes on and on 
She prepares our daily meal 
For a Mothers job is never done 

She Tried, She Tried 
With tears in her eyes 
She Tried, She Tried 
With tears in her eyes

I remember my Mother 
Sitting on a stoop
On a Sunday afternoon
She looks into the sky 
Wondering why 
Why so many have it so easy 
And why so many have it so hard 
Don’t know what to say 
But tomorrow is another day.