It Was Just A Job

Today I lost my job, but what did I really lose?
I can get another one, and I can pick and choose
A job is only work you do to earn a buck or two
Get up early, punch the clock and work the whole day through

Someone else will get the glory and the bonus you worked for
And this goes on for years til you can’t do it anymore.
If you are lucky you can make it til retirement age
Or then again you could be like me and be escorted off the stage

But what I took with me was something they can’t take away
And I can use it anytime I want on any given day
For what I took with me was a lifetime of memories
Of sharing life with friends I made and the comradery

poem by Donna McCord
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My Name Is Mom

It was brought to my attention after I became a Mom
That I was no longer me, but someone I’d become
I am still the same person that I was before the kids
But the reference to my identity was different before this.

Now I’m someone’s Mom, I don’t even have a name
And I was slow to notice it, so who was I to blame?
Someone I barely know quizzically looks at me and says
I think I know your daughter, she’s in my daughter’s class.

My name is D. I tell her and she looks at me confused
She’s waiting for my last name so it will give her clues
And here I must confess that her name as well eludes me
But her daughter’s name is Nancy, that’s ironic don’t you agree?

So for those of you awaiting the blessed event of your first child
Remember the words I’ve written here for one day you will smile
When that little boy or girl grows up and steals your identity
You’ll have to stop and remember just who you used to be.

poem by Donna McCord
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Good Grief

Good Grief, For Pete’s Sake and I Swanee To My Time
How many times I’ve used these phrases to express what’s on my mind!
But I’ve had some time to think things through and if you’ll pardon me
I think I’m more confused right now that I ever used to be!

Could someone please explain to me how grief is ever good?
Who the heck got that one started I’ve never understood!
But oh, Good Grief it’s not like I intentionally misled you
You’ve said it too, you know you have and you’re confused now too.

And has anybody ever figured out just who this Pete guy is?
I knew a Pete some time ago, but I don’t think this sake is his.
My mind is reeling now, seems I’m more confused than ever.
And for Pete’s sake don’t try and say you never said it, never!

So here we are at last to the most mind boggling phrase
I Swanee to My Time? What th? My mind is in a haze!
I heard that all my life it seems and from my kin was told
O, I Swanee to my time! Forget it! I’m just too damned old!

[...] Read more

poem by Donna McCord
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