The girlís mother said, ďDonít blame me.
Her father left when she was three.
I know she donít know her ABCs, her 1,2,3s,
But I am poor and work hard you see.Ē
You know the story, itís donít blame me.
The teacher shook her head and said,
ďDonít blame me, I know itís sad.
Heís ten, but if the truth be told,
He reads like he was six years old.
And math, donít ask.
Itís sad you see.
Wish I could do more, but itís after