They could not give what I wanted,
My heritage would be very small,
Hopes and dreams held me back at first,
But it didn’t stop me after all.
My heritage could not be measured in dollars,
My head understood what they meant,
I would have to work my tail off,
My parents couldn’t give one red cent.
I grew up tougher that way,
Life wasn’t served on a silver platter.
Yet everything they gave was good as gold,
And, yes, it did really matter.
I wasn’t always surrounded by golden girls,
Who knew how to spend my cash.
I wasn’t good enough for those girls,
Without money I was treated like trash.
My heritage was beans and potatoes,
Vegetables and fruits that we grew,
I loved the earth and it loved me,
My love for life continually grew.
My heritage was not too small,
Considering the love I got.
My love for mankind was stronger each day,
Just like the way I was taught.