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Hopscotch In Harlem Part 2

Frances

Twas the night before Thanksgiving
An’ all through the tenement
Mama was sleeping
When Big Dady came in again
And there in the night sweet Frances lost her innocence

Hopscotch in Harlem Summer 1944

"If I don’t win this time
I aint never going to play no more.”

Mr Fortune teller
    Why didn’t you tell her
One day she’d be a WHORE
The girl tol’ her Mama she’d never be poor

Papa was around
But he scorned her
Mama was always down
But she tried to warn her

Papa blamed her mother
Said she was just too lenient
The child tried her hand at working
But selling love
Was much more convenient

Cleaning toilets pays ten cents an hour
Scrubbing floors pays a quarter
My guess is that Cinderella 
Wasn’t written for her
Now she’s her own selfs employer

And Now she cleans billfolds
At least it keeps her out of the cold

Dropping her dress didn’t take her to the top
She told her Mother one day she’s gonna stop
And now and then she reflects
How she misses that Harlem Hop.
                    
                      ROSS

And Misses Gypsy lady
You been passin’ out bad luck lately
He wanted to be an astronaut
But now trouble holds him
And it’s your fault
Cause you should have told him

Attorney trying to get him twenty-five
The judge wants to give him eighty
Aint a tree in sight
But it still seems shady
But whatever happens
 He’ll always be Sadie’s  baby

Looking back with sad refrain
Ross, why you wanna bring your Mama pain?
A number replaced his name

Bought a gun to make a score
Couldn’t stand another day of being poor
So he chose to rob the corner store

Headline said: Murder at Sunny’s
He wouldn’t have killed hm
If he had jus’ given him the money

Fifty years of time to spare
A simple dream that led no where
When they passed out Blues
He got twice his share

And now he’s livin’ in shame
     But what he wouldn’t give
For one more game
Of that Harlem square.

“Ross, you better stop pullin my hair.”

black african americanchildhoodepicdaydramatic verse

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