poppa's feet

Poppa's pain is evident, It shows in his feet. poppa carried us as far as he could. He carried us. Me on his back, and momma in his arms. For thousands of miles he walked and walked. We never really had a home because momma was sick and poppa had to find work where he could. odd jobs he would find just to soothe momma's pain, as she was dying from the cancer within. when poppa would work, he would scrap up the money that he could just to shelter us in a low rent hotel. momma cried and cried because she could not help poppa with the struggle, she would often cry herself to sleep. I weep for momma. Momma couldn't even find peace in her sleep. she tossed and turned as the cancer ripped her insides apart. momma's pain was evident, It showed in her sleep. before poppa would leave he stood over momma's bed, cried, then kissed mama's feet. He left a pint of brandy for mama when the pain was to much, as she often spit up blood from her sleep. I was strong for poppa, I didn't cry and I watched over momma like a man. I knew I made poppa proud. Poppa's pain was evident, It showed in his feet. He walked with the hurt in his face. The limps in his steps. But poppa carried us as far as he could. Me on his back and momma in his arms, where she died from the cancer within. He carried me on his back as he cried as soft as he could. I held poppa as tight as I could. Poppas feet gave out, and he could no longer carry me and momma anymore. Poppa did as much as he could. In the middle of the street poppa wept, because momma died in his arms. Now he was dying of a broken heart. He laid momma on the cardboard box that was to be our bed, and kissed her lifeless feet. poppa laid next to momma and I laid next to momma. The city lights watched us sleep that night. Momma finally found peace from the cancer within and poppa died in his sleep of a broken heart. My pain Is evident, It shows in my eye's. I carry momma and poppa with me as I go. I walk like poppa as I carry them both, Deep within my homeless soul.