Ladies of tough love
you four turned out to be
forever, always fond memories
coming from the black sheep of our family
A gang of twelve kids
a tough time indeed
growing up in a small borough
north of Allentown
The scraping and scrubbing
of the kitchen floors
wiping down walls
re-adjusting the wind leaking doors
strutting to church
high heels on a Sunday morn
Hell hath no fury
liked a womans' scorn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem