Dinner

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  • Family

    Dinner

    The snow is still piled
    And so are the bills
    I just cant seem to get over this hill.

    The economy stinks
    It makes life difficult
    I am not by any means a woman of wealth, more of modesty,

    We sit at a table as a family at night
    We are grateful for our meal
    but more grateful we are together

    Rather it be steak or a hot dog
    our bellies are full.
    and to walk away knowing that this mom did all she could.

    Its not the food or how the table is et , it is knowing I can go to bed at night  and be at rest.

    At rest knowing , they  are clean, and fed, warm and dry.Knowing this I no longer cry.
    I did cry once upon a time.
    Cause I couldnt give them what they liked.
    But now I know that sitting with me at night and sharing the days events is better than any meal I can provide.
    It might be peanut butter and jelly carrot sticks and milk.
    But its worth the warmth these beautiful children have wrapped my heart in silk.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    wickedink’s Poems (23)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Dinner 0
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    Hurting hearts on the Mend 0
    Time to let go...........
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    Getting OLD 2
    HIM 1
    Can it be? 1
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    Sounds 0
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    Seasons 0
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    Are You There? 0
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    Gone 2
    Paradise awaits her 0
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    The Decade Dance 0
    Cold Winds 0
    Lost 2