When I was a wee child, a pony I did want,
the girl down the block had one and me she would taunt.

Oh, come ride my pony she would say to me,
but when I got close she'd ride away laughing with glee.

I never got my pony, not even a ride,
I would sit in my room alone so no one knew how I cried.

Then I grew into a young woman and my wants did increase,
this time a red convertible would bring me needed peace.

I worked long and worked hard till the money I'd saved,
at last I would be able to buy what I craved.

On my way to the dealership I rode on the bus,
saw the saddest looking man; under his breath heard him cuss.

I said is there a problem sir, could I be of assistance,
he smiled sadly saying, no thank you. I felt his resistance.

As we rode along we talked, he told me of his peril,
his wife died in childbirth leaving a baby girl, Sheril.

Since he had no money for all the hospital bills,
the State was keeping his child against his will.

The last thing he wanted was to lose his baby too,
after deep soul searching there was but one thing I could do.

When I hoped off the bus and entered my place,
thinking back to handing him that envelope, seeing the smile on his face.

So maybe next year that new red convertible I will buy,
and drive it to Sheril's 1st. birthday bash with a tear of joy in my eyes.