Through the misty shrouds of time
My lineage composed their rhyme
Unbeknown to me of course
As they straddled life's wild horse
My research led me to greet
Poverty and not enough to eat
As eleven cowered by Sunderland docks
Crammed into a little shoe box
The notion caused emotions to stir
If that situation were to re-occur
Could I survive and live a life?
Or be swept away by such strife
For the latter I reluctantly opt
For if my standards were so dropped
I couldnt keep my head aloft
On a backbone that was far too soft
But strength I will gather from my forebears
Amongst the luxuries of my current years
And realise as I from past histories flee
They made it possible for me to be me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem