Narrow was our shelter
low its ceiling, floor
windows tiny, grainy
paint chipped off the door
In the yard were brambles
grass just would not grow
neighbors cold, unfriendly
many years ago
Cold was our well water
yet our little brood
never did go hungry
love was our food
Those were days of sorrow
unimagined blows
crucibles of heartaches
sackcloth, ashen clothes
Yet a fire flickered
an eternal torch
shielding and protecting
from hell's searing scorch
Narrow was our shelter
low its ceiling, floor
windows tiny, grainy
paint chipped off the door.
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