When I was ten, my dad handed me a shovel.
He told me, “This will keep you out of trouble,
And although this life is going to hurt,
This is how you build your empire of dirt.”
I soon traded my shovel forward.
I would rather rattle the keyboard,
Than dig in the mines all day.
Despite my father making a living that way.
My computer turned into a degree.
I thought, “They will be proud of me.”
Breaking tradition! Breaking the cycle!
To me, these things, you entitle.
While I built this temple of knowledge,
They were the ones paying for my college.
I ignored all of their hurt,
And watched as they dug deeper,
Their empire of dirt.
Hello William,
This poem resonates with me. The emotion it portrays about the struggles its real. The sacrifices that our old ones go through in order for us to thrive is to be acknowledged. Than you for sharing this.
Best,
Ernesto
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Thank you! Every once in a while I write something that brings a smile to my face, not because it’s happy, but because it is real.
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Truth is relatable. Looking forward for your poems. Thank you for following my blog, too.
Have a great week!
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Really beautiful and shares so perfectly our shift in perspective as we experience life
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Wow. This is fantastic.
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Thank you. I took inspiration from Johnny Cash, Hurt.
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I love this and Johnny Cash hugs can’t wait to read more
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Thank you! I saw your other comments and it really meant something to me to get such feedback.
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You could have had it all, but you slave a million miles away. Instead you left them down, and still they dig to find their way.
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Powerful.
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