deepundergroundpoetry.com

sacred wood.


My great ancestors
stole horses & lived
in wagons,

they said freedom
never tasted so good
until they travelled over
europe,

my great grandfather
passed down stories
remaining sacred in
my house,

his wooden black
madonna stands
upon our fire
mantel,

this irish gypsy
blood has always
flowed through
us.

_boybrains
Written by _boybrains
Published
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