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Coal mines in my daddy's day,
Were dug with strong hands and back
They got larger and deeper,
As the lungs of the miners turned black
Cave-ins, fires and explosions,
Were my father’s daily fear.
But what choice has a man
When the wolf of hunger is near.
With three small kids and a wife,
There were five stomachs to fill.
As we lived in poverty,
In our shack below a hill.
I feel his blood within me,
As the years of my life pass by,
I'm proud that dad dug King Cole,
For a miner so am I.
Life to me is but a rose,
Though it's thorns can make me cry.
And like my dad before me,
To my Lord I will not lie.
In cold earth someday I’ll sleep,
With a shinny stone above.
Carved in it, shall be the words,
I have known the joy of love.
By Soul Poet
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