Tramps Poem by Francie Lynch

Tramps



Mammy fried her food,
On Hallowe'en.
Every e'en.
It was chops and tomatoes.
Then the grease from the pan
Was smeared on our faces,
And loose tea used for the unshaven look.
Brilliant and no charge.
The disguise was indistinguishable.

Sunday, November 1, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: family
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Francie Lynch

Francie Lynch

Monaghan, Ireland
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