My Father’s Son, my Mother’s Pride

I was born with low IQ
my parents were not well to do
my father died when I was two
my mother did what she could do

she raised me as my father wished
she raised me in her loneliness
she never cried when I was there
but sometimes I heard sobs on stairs

she held my hand and cleaned my knees
taught me all of thank you please
she packed a treat for each school day
she worked her hands to pay our way

I grew to be my father’s son
my mother said to everyone
but he had brains and I had none
my mother said stop talking son

your father was a gentle man
like him you do the best you can
he’d be so proud he’d throw a feast
you always seek the hand of peace

you’ll be a man soon I’ll grow old
don’t always do what you are told
don’t worry what the future holds
if you can find hands to hold

I stand here on my wedding day
my mother’s here no sobs today
I stand and wait now for my bride
my father’s son my mother’s pride