Granville Wesley Clarke
May 14, 1921 ====July 19 2011
The late ******* or Perry
A golden heart stop beating at sunset July 19 2011
Today my memory is a large duck egg
Yes, that large duck egg, you got from the
Chicken coop, so that I could have it for breakfast”
If you haven’t tried ducks, eggs
it's time to became a tester.
There will be no funeral today,
Only memories of the people we love
I remember the tall trees, in which you
Climbed in order to cut the branches that block the view
And the wind that cool our roof top
I remember our morning strolled in big gully
In which we would go and pick green lemons
I with my small paint bucket, you with your big brown onion bag
with our findings you would fill it to the top,
My small paint bucket I also filled it up to the top:
With my doo rag tied so tight around my head I sweat bullets
my brother old pants protected my skinny legs from the bugs
There we were strolling through the woods
Almonds, I ****** the juices, and hammer the nuts with a rock
As you cut down trees, to finish your pig pen,
There will no funeral today, or weeping
Just good old memories, about the dead
Rest in peace, with the angels,
Until we meet again,
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 10:03 AM UTC
Granville Wesley Clarke
May 14, 1921 ====July 19 2011
The late ******* or Perry
A golden heart stop beating at sunset July 19 2011
Today my memory is a large duck egg
Yes, that large duck egg, you got from the
Chicken coop, so that I could have it for breakfast”
If you haven’t tried ducks, eggs
it's time to became a tester.
There will be no funeral today,
Only memories of the people we love
I remember the tall trees, in which you
Climbed in order to cut the branches that block the view
And the wind that cool our roof top
I remember our morning strolled in big gully
In which we would go and pick green lemons
I with my small paint bucket, you with your big brown onion bag
with our findings you would fill it to the top,
My small paint bucket I also filled it up to the top:
With my doo rag tied so tight around my head I sweat bullets
my brother old pants protected my skinny legs from the bugs
There we were strolling through the woods
Almonds, I ****** the juices, and hammer the nuts with a rock
As you cut down trees, to finish your pig pen,
There will no funeral today, or weeping
Just good old memories, about the dead
Rest in peace, with the angels,
Until we meet again,
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