Used to Be | Sherrie Faulkner
When the mother first held her daughter
And kissed her tiny brow; so sweet
She did not dream for her a future
That included dumpster diving to eat
When on career day, the young man read out loud
I want to be a doctor and stop sickness and pain,
He was not secretly planning to be an addict
And shoot heroine into his vein.
When a little girl thinks about a white dress
And the details of her wedding day,
She does not plan to try to survive
By giving her body away.
When the teen who was jumped into a gang
Finds himself with a gun to someone’s head,
He was once a boy of three
Whose grandmother read him stories before bed.
A young mother lays her baby down to sleep
On a roach infested mattress on the floor.
The tears in her eyes aren’t from happiness
Because she couldn’t wait to grow up poor.
So the next time you judge an individual
And start handing out labels so liberally,
Close your eyes and try to picture
The child that they used to be.