Sharecropper’s Son

He was born in a log cabin

in nineteen hundred & ten

He lived there as an infant & then

He grew up on a sharecropper’s farm,

a sharecropper’s wage never stretched very far,

He was a child with a heart of iron & grit

never complained, not a single bit

He had a great work ethic,

took any job he could get, 

worked even when he was sick,

It also didn’t hurt that he was smart as a whip

At the end of the day, all his slaving away,

lifted his family out of poverty’s grip

By: J.N.R Dutton

 

 

 

 

 

Imagination’s Flight

When I was young,

my imagination flew

Watching Peter Pan, Tinkerbell

& the Lost Boys too,

along w/Captain Hook & his pirate crew

Oh, the idea of Neverland, it was grand, 

So were the stories of Sherwood Forest,

Robin Hood & his merry band 

My imagination’s flights were

anything but bland

By: J.N.R Dutton

 

 

 

 

Untitled Poem

Writing poetry is something

That often comes easy to me

Whether just telling a story

or pouring out my deeply held feelings

Even if sometimes those feelings

can be heavy, dark & frightening

When I write, I often feel my burdens

lightening

You see, it’s a form of therapy

and whatever I’m facing

I know there are people

who can relate to me

By: J.N.R Dutton