Some days there’s not a lot to eat,

Maybe soup made from a bone,

and ma will make up sandwiches,

that I like to eat alone.

Some’s days there ain’t no jelly,

and I gotta eat it plain,

and ma keeps saying things’ll get

better, soon, again.

I feel my stomach growling,

as I’m walking off to school,

I think that I could eat a horse,

but I’m nobody’s fool,

No one eats a horse, you know,

How would you get around?

My stomach’s growling louder,

I hope no one hears the sound,

I think of eggs and bacon,

of bowls of shredded wheat,

I think of all the different things

that I would like to eat,

Some days we don’t have nothin’

But I wouldn’t tell a lie,

when things are not so tough at home,

Well, some days we have pie.


Sandra Lee Smith

Originally posted June 1, 2010

Updated September 2, 2018


Sandy’s footnote:  A few years ago, my two Canadian girlfriends and I began writing poetry on a daily basis, taking turns selecting topics. We collected quite a lot of poetry over a period of 2-3 years before wearing ourselves out.. I was inspired by the concept of An American Childhood to begin writing poems about children growing up in the USA in the 1800s. My Canadian girlfriend, Doreen, took a portion of the American childhood poems and had them printed in a booklet. What I am presenting to you now will be all the American Childhood poetry. – sls 9-2-18

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