My Empire of Dirt

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.

10 thoughts on “My Empire of Dirt

  1. 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.

    Liked by 1 person

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