I have tried to convince my children
To pick up a pick and pan
Yet they look at me as if
I am a crazy old man
I guess I will take
My secrets to my grave
I’ll be like Old Pancake
A penniless slave
I have the satisfaction
Of knowing what I know
Even if I never made it
Up to the big show
Maybe when I die
I’ll not go to hell
Because I did not join a society
And my soul I did not sell
Metals and gems
Are useless to me
They are cold and are worthless
Why can’t the world see
So when I pass
I’ll take their secrets with me
I hope and I pray to God
That he’ll set me free
P.s. I have practically begged my children to let me take them to some really interesting places and show them certain things but to this day they refuse…
Edwin Tanguma © 4/18/2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem