The old woman has finished washing floors,
She earns an income by doing their chores,
Where she is treated kindly, sometimes not,
Careful, not to overlook any spot.
Her husband parks closely against the curb,
Mindful of prejudice in this suburb,
Although they recognize him as her spouse.
He is polite but won’t go in their house.
Instead, he opens the door for his wife,
For better or for worse, for all their life,
And kisses her, asking “How did it go?”
He rests his elbow outside the window.
He is a truck driver and she a maid,
Both, thankful to God for each penny made.
Complaining does no good, she has her pride,
And shuts her eyes, just thankful for the ride.
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