Our Backwoods One Room Home

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  • Childhood

    Our Backwoods One Room Home

     

    I took a drive not long ago
    To the place I used to call home
    Nested way far back in those pine woods
    Just a young boy, always on the roam
    My dad had built a one room shack
    He did the best with what God gave
    We didn't really have any luxuries 
    We sure didn't have no money to save
    Didn't have any games on hand
    Just a pine stick we called gun
    And if one of my brothers came too close
    I'd point it and put them on the run
    We didn't have a bathroom per say
    Just an old outhouse on down the hill
    We didn't have a bath tub either
    Just a wash tub we had to fill
    Yes, I miss our little cottage
    A place where freedom did roam
    A time when simple wasn't ugly
    Our backwoods one room home

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Charlesm’s Poems (5)

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