Because my parents, growing up, they worked hard. Everyone in my family woke up early in the morning. I used to see my mother and my father go off to work, and come back and, no matter what, they had time for the kids.
quote by Herschel Walker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Autobiography
My father made the walls resound,
He wore his collar the wrong way round.
When I was five the black dreamscame;
Nothing after was quite the same.
When I woke they did not care;
Nobody, nobody was there.
In my childhood trees were green
And there was plenty to be seen.
When my silent terror cried,
Nobody, nobody replied.
I got up; the chilly sun
Saw me walk away alone.
My mother wore a yellow dress;
Gentle, gently, gentleness.
The dark was talking to the dead;
The lamp was dark beside my bed.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
poem by Louis Macneice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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American Soldier
His face against the window the boy starts to cry,
Out of all days on his birthday the 9th of July,
His father had just left to go back to Iraq,
And the boy didn't know if he'd ever come back,
This wasn't the first time his father went away,
But everytime he did the boy would pray,
That his father would return,
Without even a burn,
It was realy hard to have faith,
That his father would be safe,
When everyday on TV,
He'd hear about another injury,
The boy would lose hope everytime he heard a knock on the door,
And it wasn't his father coming back from the war,
Every night before going to sleep the boy thought about the war,
How his dream to be like his father in the army was not anymore,
One morning the boy woke up and he went to eat his breakfast,
And when he did he saw the one that for a long time he missed,
He tried but couldn't hold in his tears,
After realizing that God had heard his prayers,
Never again will I leave his father then said,
I have realized now all the tears I have caused to be shed,
Wether it be to family or to a friend,
This is THE END!
poem by Motti Dahan
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My Infant Days
Air -- "The Rain upon the Roof"
When I was a little infant,
And I lay in mother's arms,
Then I felt the gentle pressure
Of a loving mother's arms.
"Go to sleep my little baby,
Go to sleep," mamma would say;
"Oh, will not my little lady
Go to sleep for ma to-day."
Oh! my parents loved me dearly,
For I was their eldest born,
And they always called me Julia
In a mild and loving form.
My parents will not forget me,
Though I married and left their home,
For they can remember clearly
How with them I once did roam.
Oh! my mother, how I love her,
Though her head is growing gray,
For in fancy I can see her
Bending o'er me night and day,
As she did when I was little,
Watching me in sleep and play --
Mother now is growing feeble,
Now I will her love repay.
Oh! my father, how I love him,
For he has worked hard for me,
For to earn my food and clothing,
In my little infancy.
And oh, I will not forget him,
While on earth I do remain --
May the God of heaven bless him
In this world of grief and pain.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Male parental hierarchy.
My parents are two, grandparents four
And great grandparents, eight and so on.
I am known by my father, his father,
And his father and so on by male side.
My mother, her mother and father, their
Mother and father and so on are ignored.
My fathers’ mother and grandfather’s
Mother and so on go to oblivion.
I am known by my father, his father
And his father and so on as a family.
All women from whom I have drawn
Their genes have been shut out.
Parental hierarchy is represented
By male, women dislodged at every stage.
25.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Father Image 11
Every time I ponder in solitude
re-evaluates my innermost attitude
no reason I can give to rationalize
every bit of me is sort personalize
surely a replica of my father dear
the genes all his and image I bear
of his physical attributes so clear
Care and love that my father shares
abound in me also through which I dare
bring joy to family of which father is good
really diligent he provides us staple food
every meal at the table he buys our family
rare the time when we have nothing to eat
all that my father do is work hard to get it
Best times I like to spend with my family
resting together at home and watching TV
and though my father is now old yet I try
to contact him every weekends to ask
on a date with mother becomes a task
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Purpose Does A Rabbit Have
The same nightmare woke my father
every night for years.
He had no idea what it meant
and so he wrote the story down
and saved the note and hoped
some day he'd understand it.
But a note like that
can be misplaced.
Decades later Father
found the note
in a drawer of socks
he hadn't worn in years.
He found it underneath
his old glass eye the night
Mother came back on the Harley
to 'make their marriage work.'
He reminded Mother they had
been divorced for years
and then, despite her tears,
he told her, 'After all this time,
we both know now that you
were gone before you left.
But now you're back so
let me tell you all about
the nightmare I've had every night
since you took the bike and left.
I wrote the story down to tell the kids
when they grew up but they ran off
before I had a chance to ask them
if they knew what my dream might mean.
You'd like the kids. They're pretty smart.
Anyway my note says this:
'What purpose does a rabbit have
other than as prey?
What difference does a rainbow make
in a rabbit's day? '
You tell me now you love me,
always have and always will.
But the kids are gone forever
so take the Harley now and go.'
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parents Are Not Payable
Listen, dear brothers, sisters,
Look back in nostalgia;
Think about dear mother,
dear father,
The ones who gave life to you
And thaught you how to be
a man, a woman too;
Your mother who suckled you
Nine months she bore you
in her womb;
From his own sweat your
father paid for your school
And made sure your belly is
never emptied with food.
Think about them in
everything you do.
For some day you wil be
a father, a mother too
And your children will think
about you in everything
they do
They will think of the
troubles you went through
To help them pull through.
PARENTS can never be repaid
No matter the wealth you
may have attained.
Parents are not payable,
You just have to make them
feel comfortable,
And that would be enough
for their troubles.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I was growing up, there weren't any Little Leagues in the city. Parents worked all the time. They didn't have time to take their kids out to play baseball and football.
quote by Mike Krzyzewski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning Cold Taxi
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
With lifes best side on the downward slope,
Its in my own hands, I know Ill cope,
My girls with me and all my friends can see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Done it before, do it again,
Know from experience its not in vain,
Shes the best Ive had, I cannot see, what someone else can do to me.
Its a long way home but loves so warm, youll see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm happiest at home hanging out with the kids... Having a family has been my saving grace because I don't work back to back on anything or I'd drive myself to an early grave with guilt and worry for my family, whom I'd never see.
Every child growing up will look to their parents, my mother and my father. My grandmother lived with us. I picked up quite a bit of family lore and history from her, which was interesting.
My Parents
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
Ilove you i love you
I looking for you
to talk about my heart
which still ill
untill i will see you
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
You are the third one
In my small heart
After ALLAH and
And my prophet MOHAMED
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
Oh ALLAH is ordering us
Not to make them angry
Never to tell them
the smallest word ouufff
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
Oh ALLAH loves who
Makes his parents happy
And forgives those
Who have a lot of mistakes
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
Ilove you i love you
Oh ALLAH enter me
To the higher Firdaous
With my parents and
every single MUSLIM
Oh my mother Oh my father
Oh my mother Oh my father
Where are you where are you wher are you?
I love you i love you
poem by Abderaouf Laoud
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homelessness In Winter
back about 30 years ago,
living on the streets in Charlotte...
finally found a job... was lucky enough
to have a place to take a shower...
sleeping in the backseat of a broke
down Ford Maverick... cold winter...
got up and walked 4 miles to work
every morning,4 miles 'home' in the
evening...
went on for a couple months before
i got a place to live...
so yes i know what homelessness
feels like...and i cant help thinking
about all the empty foreclosed houses....
empty houses, homeless people....
back then, even if you couldnt find a
real job, they had a place where you
could go and line up to do day work...
worked all day for about 25 dollars...
if you couldnt do that, you could always
sell blood.... i dont know what they do
now....i just know it's a hard life...and if
you've got family, got kids...
something to think about the next time
you see a homeless person walking the
streets!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Day
Well Im hiding my eyes from the morning sun
And I keep on working till the work is all done
But a voice in my head keeps ticking away
As the sweats hosed down from yet another day
Well he works hard
And he lives hard
And he breaks his back without nothing to gain
While the boss man sits around and drinks champagne
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Well Im peeling the blisters off my working hand
Is that what it takes to make you understand?
That its something you read, not something you meant
To be slaving away without a shred of integrity
He worked hard
And he lived hard
And he broke his back without nothing to say
While the man in control was just laughing away
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Was it something you read?
Was it something you meant?
Was it something you said?
Or was it heaven sent?
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father's Day Reminder
A mother's work is never done
A father's work is rarely appreciated or much fun
Time to let any bad feelings be undone
Father's day is coming....dear daughter or son
Here's a why to honor your father
That isn't really hard
Whether he deserves it or not
Send a card
Today is a good day to get it in the mail
Throw it in the letter bale
The postal service delivers in rain or hail
But get done early, in case they fail
Before on decent cards there is a run
Go to the store today and 'get 'er done'
But if he's not here or passed away
Remember him kindly on Father's Day
And if he's abandoned you or he was never around
Don't let him hear a complaining sound
A perfect father is rarely found
And to past hurt we should not be bound
Of father's we have each only one
From that we should not run
Father's day is a day to reach out to fogive
Father's day is a day to appreciate and to give
(because you don't really understand it's strains unless you've been a father)
poem by James T. Adair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Work To Do!
i came from a generation
that worked.... was born to
work, daylight to dawn,
for everything we had.
we grew our own food, we
cut firewood, we worked
with our hands.
we were taught to work...
we built houses, bridges,
paved roads... worked on
farms, worked in sawmills,
worked in factories...
whatever it took for food
and shelter...
and if a neighbor got hurt,
or sick, and couldnt work...
we helped him and his family
till he could.
those of us left who can work
are still working, a lot of us are
out of work, and cant find work!
and so the world has changed...
it seems like a lot of people
spend more time avoiding work
than working... a lot of people
look for the easy way out...are
dependent on society...
still a lot of good and willing people
just need help.
they call this progress...based
on technology, and looking out for
number one. seperated, almost islands...
greed has taken the place of the bent back!
so when it all falls apart, and that will
be soon, what happens? who knows how
to survive? who has the backbone?
things to think about, and yes...
work to do!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Family Man
Written by lindsey buckingham and richard dashut.
Walk down this road
When the road gets rough
I fall down
I get up
I am what I am...
A family man
I am what I am...
A family man
Mother... father... brother...
Mother... father... brother...
Walk down this road
In the cool of the night
Dont know whats wrong
But I do know whats right
I am what I am...
A family man
I am what I am...
A family man
Mother... father... brother...
Mother... father... brother...
I am what I am...
A family man
I am what I am...
A family man
Mother... father... brother...
Mother... father... brother...
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who are these people?
Who are these people? where are they streaming? Glass eyes tight shut as though they were dreaming?
Garrotted, throats slit as a token of sacrifice to the eternel god's,
Bodies cast down to the depth's of brooding pete bogs.
'Did you surrender yourself, your will to the ritual, Or be this simply a punishment for a crime, we shall never know.'
Sword's split skull's, not hard enough to kill
Just to lull, least drag their victims senses into the void.
Calling on the Goddess of spring through to autumn, of summer's sun and winter rain
Only your head, throne of the soul survives the passage of time to breathe again.
'From where did you come? ' ask's the child to his mother
'From my mother, her mother before her'
'So where does my father fit into this, what seem's such simple a matter? '
'He work's his hand's to the bone, then come's home late, wait's at the table just to get fatter.
That's what he does, he seems happy enough, he has no illusions to shatter'
'What off my father, from wence doth he stem, from his father and father before? '
'Nay, It goes way further than that, to back when, our only mother was the mother of yore
Mother of earth, blessed mother of pearl, reveal to us the wisdom's with which you blanket the world.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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