Pool Table 🎱

That first Christmas, just over a month after our father died
My mom bought us a pool table
With seven children under twelve
I guess she thought it would help when we cried

Some of us took to it right away
A long winter shortened by the games we played
We moved again, and the felt came along
Shared a room with my brother, where that table belonged

My youngest sister would beg to shoot pool with her
She was the pest, my brothers concur
Youngest to oldest developed some flair
As we improved our skill, and learned to share

Sometimes we'd all draw names from a hat
Make up teams, but no one wanted the brat
Mom could shoot well, and she took such joy
To win with the girls, and show up the boys

All of us aged, and explored different lives
But pool remained, and still centralized
I believe it bonded, and helped to fulfill
Some of us play in a pool league still