A Man of Constant Sorrow
I’m a man of constant sorrow tripping over guilt and stress
I wear my guilt as a badge of honor, lord, I’m a total mess
Even the day I was born, I was mother’s little miracle of mirth
My guilt runs back through hundreds of years, another time and tuff
It goes back into an ancient land to another impoverished time
Surly, I can blame my great, great Grand father and that Irish blood-line
I live in a world of misery, i’m troubled with lonely cries
Wondering, around in a world of privilege, I can hardly recognize
My father never won a title just a share-cropper on a farm,
The most he ever gave me to boast was a strong back and arm
I can say one thing in my defense, and that’s without a doubt
This world of privilege I’m living in, is wearing my old body out
Copyright © Patrick Kelly | Year Posted 2021
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