I hitchike in the rain

I take care of all my sisters.
They care for little brother.
A very tight knit family
that counts on one another.

Our parents both abandoned us
now, many years ago.
Pops shanghaied the Greyhound bus.
Mom's in Tupelo.

A gal I'm told of ill-repute.
She went against the grain.
Went from cute to destitute
and hopped the southbound train.

Traded family for her friends
who ain't worth a hill of beans.
I only hope the ends
serve to justify the means.

The hardship's never stopping.
You can't know half the pain.
When I do the weekly shopping
I hitchike in the rain.

I play the role of "father".
Try my best to get it done.
Sometimes I ask "Why bother"
but I'm the oldest son.

Each victory's been hard fought.
Every mile tastes like three.
One lesson life has taught.
Worthwhile isn't free.

Sure, at times it strenuous.
So little left for me,
but it would be ingenuous
to look, but not to see

that all the second guessings
are outweighed by all the gain
and I count my many blessings when I hitchike in the rain