Minimum wage and all out of luck,
in sofa cushions, some change was stuck.
Enough to buy one ice cream cone -
we shared it on the long walk home.

And on the trip, the questions flew,
"Why just one cone? And why not two?"
So looking deep within his eyes,
I chose the truth, no need for lies.

Explaining that - while life was tough,
with just one cone, we had enough.
He shook his head, took one last taste,
then gave it back and wiped his face.

The pride I felt to watch him share,
at four years old, he didn't care.
As long as we had time to play,
for him, it was a perfect day.

For all the dreams that I had built,
to watch them fall, I'd felt the guilt.
But being poor was not a crime,
for on my son - I'd spent my time.