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by Kings Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #138263
In the winter we lived In our two little cramp rooms of love.

Rooms Of Love

My childhood when the winter brought its frigid cold,
Down from the North the arctic winds would blow.
Our house was old with wide cracks in the walls.
So come the winter we lived in two of its rooms.


We had to if we intended for us to stay warm.
We may have been as poor as a church mouse.
On Saturday morning after eating Mom's breakfast.
My Dad would take a couple of us boys, with a sack.


To pick up the coal that had fallen off the trains.
We walk down the railroad tracks carrying the sacks.
Sometimes we walked for five miles picking up coal.
Some may say this is a rough way to be raised,


yes it was but we received a lot of love in return.
Still I would not have changed my life in any way.
Mom and Dads love was strong for we ten children.
If any part of my raising would have been changed.


Another man I would have become to this very day.
I am very proud of my raising and the man I am today.
I take nothing for granted I'm grateful for all I have.
I often think of those two rooms filled with love.

BY: Kings
© Copyright 2001 Kings (tazzy1228 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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