Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.222.185.243

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

They sit around the table
     and a few will shed a tear
Thinking about the kinfolk
     who are no longer here.
The photos on the mantle
     are fading quickly with time,
Just like all the memories
     which become so hard to find.

The youth have become restless
     as they are close to full grown;
Soon they'll be out in the world
     finding places of their own.
For that the elders worry,
     at the table now and then,
Because no one wants to say
     if they will come back again.

There are nicks and cuts and dents
     in the table top that's worn;
Its hosted funeral dinners,
     held the food for babies born.
A leg or two can wobble,
     its old feet can shrink or swell,
But if this table could talk
     so much hist'ry would it tell.

And now it's there on its own
     as the house's shell is gone;
The paint is cracked and faded,
     its legs won't hold it for long.
Sadly, though, the end is near
     for the hour's growing late;
There's no one left to return
     to retrieve if from its fate.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required