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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513467" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Jane Jenkins</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Jane Jenkins was just barely ten<br>When her father's beatings had begun</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The year was nineteen twenty nine<br>As they waited together in the free bread line</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her little face wore such sweet repose<br>Her cheeks the color of the old fashioned rose</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That grew on the trellis by the house on the hill<br>Where the voice of her mother was stoic and still</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'd always worn a Black Irish frown<br>Since the day he arrived from Dublin Town, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">With the immigrant groups who then here came<br>To dodge it's poverty and shame</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It had never really been that bad<br>Before that Tuesday that the stock market crashed </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He drove a truck, a Mack, I think<br>But had propensity to drink</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sometimes days would turn to weeks<br>He'd not come home and they lived on the cheap</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all those times that he was stealth<br>He kept his paycheck to himself</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So itty bitty tiny Jane <br>With her mother, would beg to gain </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A penny here or a nickel there<br>Picking cotton until their hands were rare</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So she'd grown accustomed to those times <br>Her stomach was more empty than yours or mine</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the one thing that was sorely marred<br>Was her wee small heart with its thickened scars</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And she safeguarded it under lock and key<br>Putting on a face of merry glee</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And attended school wearing flower sacks<br>In place of the fabric that her mother lacked</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then one day her life all changed<br>She dared to dream a dream to frame</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'd left for good with his Black Irish frown<br>She stomped his memory in the cold hard ground</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Written by Sara Fielder © 2012</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sara+Fielder">Sara Fielder</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513467" data-title="Jane Jenkins de Sara Fielder" data-description="Jane Jenkins was just barely ten When her father's beatings had begun The year was nineteen twenty nine As they waited together in the free bread line Her little face wore such sweet repose Her cheeks the color of the old fashioned rose That gr..."></div> </div> </div>
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