Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2010
my bampa was a minergrafting down a piti recall his chesty cough black lumps in his spitdust of  death for pittancelined a throat so dry filthy lungs but clean heartwith love you cannot buytwelve hours down a holetin tub for a bathprepared with love and care nan placed by the hearthbraving winds and weatherto reach the outside loousing daily newspaperto wipe away the pooso sometimes when i'm downand life gets on my **** remember bampa's life...andwhere he worked, washed, and ****
copywright ioan pearce
Written by
ioan pearce
5.6k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems